Wolf Like Me
by d r a m a t i s . e c h o
Summary: In his last year of high school, Christophe comes to realize he's had just about enough of Gregory's pretentious, pathetic abuse. But oddly enough, a gentle redhead from his past ends up being there to help him heal his wounds...
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own South Park, or the characters in this story. I simply wrote out the scenario in pure boredom. XD… like all of my other stories lol

**Pairing: **Christophe/Kyle, Christophe/Gregory

**Summary: **In his last year of high school, Christophe comes to realize he's had just about enough of Gregory's pretentious abuse. But oddly enough, a gentle redhead ends up being there to help him heal his wounds.

**Notes I: **I can't stay away from Kyle/Christophe lol I love them both too much

**Notes II :** WOOT … all the usual; smut, fluff, romance, angst, hurt, friendship, etc.

**Notes III:** This will mostly be rated **T**, though occasionally there might be some **M** for violence/sex.

**Song:** Wolf Like Me – by – TV on the Radio

* * *

**P R O L O G U E**

He was an asshole.

Then again, he'd _always_ been an asshole, and most kids at the school knew it. He didn't start fights with other students, and he didn't necessarily 'bully' anyone… but he was pretentious as all fuck. He spoke down to almost everyone who addressed him, including some of the teachers. And still somehow, the smug Brit got away with it.

Over the past few years, Christophe had come to resent Gregory for everything he was, and everything he was turning into.

They'd been rather close friends as children. They went on 'missions' and played mercenaries during their youth. They were quite entranced by the idea – but it was only since the age of eleven that Christophe felt too old to continue the ruse. Gregory, however, wasn't exactly willing to cut the little fantasy from his life. He continued to make the French boy play with him; their rough housing became even rougher, mingled with the growing curiosity and sexuality that came with young boys hitting puberty. One of the earliest incidents that Christophe recalled was being tied up and held 'hostage' by Gregory during one particular game of 'interrogation'. It had awkwardly ended with the British blond straddling Christophe's lap – and kissing him. It was a fucked up way to experience a first kiss.

He hadn't been quite sure how to react. He remembered feeling confused, but oddly enough, HAD enjoyed the contact. Christophe figured his blond companion had been feeling a bit rejected ever since Wendy brushed off his innocent, childhood advances. Gregory seemed rather embarrassed and made Christophe promise not to tell anyone. He agreed.

But it seemed like that 'promise' only opened the door to Gregory's strange and abusive behavior. The boy continued to experiment with Christophe; he tested the water with kisses at first, then touching, then full on make-out sessions. All this, of course, with the occasional fight or bloody nose in between. Gregory liked it rough.

While Christophe found this incredibly strange, he was generally a withdrawn individual – who was known for hating God, and his somewhat 'outlandish' and defiant behavior as a child. But as he'd gotten older, those tendencies had slowly reformed into a calm, alluring, and mysterious young teen. He had a quiet confidence about him, though he was often on his own when Gregory wasn't with him. Christophe adjusted to school well enough, but not necessarily to other students. Most considered him a bit weird, and found his reclusive, quiet nature kind of 'boring'. And hell, he had to agree; compared to most other students in their school, like Tweek or Cartman – who had more noticeable character traits – Christophe just stuck to the background. If he had any reputation during school it was: that weird French kid.

By the time he was fourteen, he'd already had his first sexual experience with Gregory. It hadn't been anything particularly 'special' for Christophe. In fact, he only went that far because Gregory WANTED to. His mother had been blatantly honest with him from a young age about sex, which might be why he felt so indifferent to it.

Thinking back to his youth now, Christophe knew he was never really into the things Gregory made him do. He was always so passive. The British blond boy was the instigator; the needy one, the violent one, and the one who seemed far more confused about his feelings and new found sexuality.

By the time everyone graduated into their first year of high school – Gregory had latched himself onto Christophe; he considered the French boy his boyfriend, and desperately clung onto that belief in order to make himself feel more confident. This was kept secret, of course, and the two never embraced the title in public... which was MORE than fine with Christophe. He didn't even actually remember 'agreeing' to Gregory's proposal; the blond had simply one day called Christophe 'his'.

The new responsibilities and larger student population took some time to get used to. Gregory worked hard to get people to know WHO he was; he joined political groups, debate clubs, student council, and anything else that would showcase his 'intelligence' and indisputable confidence. Only Christophe knew what a lie it was; behind closed doors, Gregory had little to NO confidence – and made up for it by abusing Christophe under the guise of 'playing mercenaries'.

It was pathetic; the one word that Christophe could wholeheartedly say made him_ instantly_ think of Gregory.

When Christophe would show up to school with a broken nose, bruises, cuts or bandaged hands… most just assumed he was still in 'mercenary' mode. There was even a rumor going through the entire school that he actually WAS a mercenary.

He found the rumor rather amusing, and never bothered to correct anyone. If anything, it gave him a chance to keep others away – if through nothing else but fear. But just because he wasn't an actual mercenary didn't mean he still couldn't kick ass. He'd taken a number of self-defense and martial arts classes to keep himself in shape and alert. Why, with all that training, he _bothered_ to let Gregory abuse him could be a mystery. Perhaps it came back to his feelings for Gregory. He pitied the blond, and figured he could endure a little physical pain if it gave Gregory the temporary feeling of control and confidence.

He felt sorry for the pathetic, desperate mess Gregory had become when they were alone. It was sad to see him struggling through his high school façade; playing the part of the pretentious, British student who was highly intelligent and smug. If there was one noble trait about Christophe DeLorne, it was clearly his loyalty. He didn't have the heart or energy to deal with breaking things off with Gregory. He figured the blond was unstable enough, he might actually try to commit suicide. Or kill Christophe instead.

By their senior year, Christophe couldn't wait to graduate and get out of this festering town.

Maybe he'd just venture back to France, and lose himself in the culture and land he considered home. Just thinking about it made him feel peaceful and happy.

Happy wasn't an emotion Christophe really felt, or was comfortable with. It was hard to remember the genuine feeling, given the circumstances surrounding the past ten years of his life. He was just indignant; nothing moved him, nothing bothered him, and nothing inspired him…

Until a certain redhead re-entered his life…


	2. A Redheaded Encounter

**Disclaimer:** I don't own South Park, or the characters in this story. I simply wrote out the scenario in pure boredom. XD… like all of my other stories lol

**Pairing: **Christophe/Kyle, Christophe/Gregory

**Summary: **In his last year of high school, Christophe comes to realize he's had just about enough of Gregory's pretentious abuse. But oddly enough, a gentle redhead ends up being there to help him heal his wounds.

**Notes I: **I can't stay away from Kyle/Christophe lol I love them both too much

**Notes II :** WOOT … all the usual; smut, fluff, romance, angst, hurt, friendship, etc.

**Notes III:** This will mostly be rated **T**, though occasionally there might be some **M** for violence/sex.

**Song:** Wolf Like Me – by – TV on the Radio

* * *

"Christophe? Are you listening?"

The deep, dark brown gaze of the Frenchman lazily turned back toward Gregory – who sat staring at him a bit impatiently.

Placing a cigarette between his lips, Christophe plucked a lighter from the pocket of his black jeans; "Mmm…" He mumbled affirmatively, flicking the lighter on and emitting a familiar flame from its tip. Inhaling sharply from the cancer stick dangling from between his lips, the ash flared red before beginning to slowly smolder as Christophe stuck the lighter back into his pocket.

"Then what did I say?" Gregory quizzed suspiciously.

A sigh passed along with the smoke that drizzled from Christophe's mouth. "Somezhing about your ztudent counceel…" He shrugged.

"I said: I need to stay after school this evening to help organize the vendor reservations for the school's 15th Anniversary." The Brit huffed. Crossing his arms, he leaned back against the wall Christophe was currently propping himself up against; his blue eyes casually wandering around the area they occupied. "It will be an insufferable evening of dull speeches and small talk with the fumbling teachers and alumni of this damned school. But student council is required to go, and help organize the event." He said distastefully.

Christophe didn't answer; he just continued to smoke calmly – keeping his eyes focused ahead instead of on Gregory. The blond seemed to be uncomfortable with the silence, and more importantly, with whatever was internally distracting the Frenchman from paying attention to him. "I'll be done around seven thirty…" Gregory continued sternly. "At which point, I will return home, and expect to find you there." He said pointedly.

The French teen still didn't bother looking at him; it appeared like he wasn't even listening – which only served to make Gregory more anxious and angry. "Christophe." He hissed.

Slowly those familiar, confident brown eyes turned back toward him.

"Answer." Gregory huffed; his blue eyes narrowed toward his old friend.

Plucking the cigarette from between his lips, Christophe held it loosely between his index and middle finger as smoke smoothly streamed out his nose. "Oui."

"Good." Gregory said; giving a small sigh of what Christophe could only assume was relief. He became so agitated when he didn't have the Frenchman's full attention. "I'll see you later." He mumbled quickly, before disappearing from the smoking section and back into the school.

Flicking his cigarette to the ground, Christophe stubbed it out with the toe of his worn, black doc martin boot. Adjusting his messenger-style bag over his shoulder, the Frenchman scruffed his dark, unruly brown hair away from his face as he headed reluctantly back into the school. Great. Now he was roped in to meeting Gregory after his stupid meeting. He had kind of hoped that the blond might say he was too busy to meet tonight – which would have been just fine for Christophe.

Maybe he could think of some excuse to get out of it.

Fortunately, fate was smiling on him that day as he rounded the corner and bumped right into Tweek. "_G-Gah_! Christophe!" He yelled, stumbling back a bit.

The Frenchman sighed, and stopped. "Tweek." He mumbled.

"_Arg_! I-I was wondering… o-oh Jesus, _nngh_," He began to stammer. "I-Is there any way you –_gah_- could work for me tonight?" The blond finally spit out.

Quirking a brow, Christophe nodded. "Oui." He mumbled, glancing up and focusing on a figure standing a few feet behind Tweek. It was Craig; the ebony-haired boy was watching them cautiously. Ah yes. He figured the blond wanted the night off to spend with his over-protective boyfriend. "Ze time you start?" He asked casually, moving his eyes back to Tweek.

"_Nngh_! S-Six!" He answered, an eager smile lighting his face.

Nodding, Christophe passed him without another word. While he didn't show it on his face, he was actually relieved. Thank God he had an excuse to ditch Gregory tonight. Granted, the blond wouldn't be happy… and the Frenchman knew he'd probably end up paying for it later. But hell, work was better than Gregory.

* * *

The rest of the day seemed to float by – and after heading home to his apartment for a quick bite to eat; Christophe was venturing back out to Harbucks for his shift. While most eighteen year olds didn't HAVE their own apartments, Christophe's mother had set him up with this one. She'd moved back to France, but wanted him to stay and finish his schooling since he was so close to being done anyway. When he graduated, he figured he'd move back to France… it's not like there was nothing keeping him here.

Slipping into the coffee shop, Christophe was quick to get to work and serve the usual 'after dinner' rush that Harbucks tended to get. But after an hour and a half of business… the shop was quiet and empty again. Turning on the café music, he put in one of his own mixed cds and began to clean up a bit. The Frenchman hummed lightly to himself in his deep voice as he moved around the area smoothly. He rather liked working in the coffee shop; he loved coffee, though of course, not nearly as much as his blond co-worker. And despite the busy rushes, it was a rather soothing atmosphere.

Once everything was tidy again, Christophe grabbed his cigarettes from his pocket and placed one between his lips as he headed for the front door. No one was in the shop, so he figured a smoke break wouldn't hurt. Lighting his salvation, Christophe began to smoke as he casually leaned against the front window of the café. It had gotten dark already; this damned town was experiencing winter ten out of the twelve months a year. But even though he was standing outside in nothing but a long sleeved-tee, dark jeans and a dark green Harbucks apron – Christophe wasn't too cold. Smokers tended to be more 'weather resistant' than most other people.

"Christophe?" A voice called tentatively.

Turning, his dark eyes fell on a mop of soft, red curls and bright green eyes. For a brief second, his breath hitched in his throat as he stared at the teen standing across from him. He was rather thin, but not unsightly so like Tweek Tweak. His soft red hair fell in waves around his slender face. His eyes had gentle warmth to them, but also a bit of fire as well; Christophe could tell the teen had spirit inside him. He was wearing a layered orange hoodie, dark jeans and green converse sneakers. It was an effortless look, but an attractive one.

"Oui?" He responded finally, placing the cigarette back between his lips. While the teen seemed familiar, he didn't immediately recognize him.

The redhead glanced down, "Uh… it's Kyle." He said. "Kyle Broflovski?" He repeated, looking back to Christophe. "My mom started that whole… Terrance and Phillip thing?" The redhead continued. When the Frenchman still didn't respond, he rolled his eyes, "Viva La Resistance?"

"Ah…" Christophe said, a light finally flickering on inside his head. He vaguely remembered that event. "Oui." He nodded. "I… remembare guard dogs. Nut much else." He admitted with a small smirk. For some reason, the redhead blushed. Was he seeing things? Why was Kyle blushing? Wondering briefly if he'd offended him, he continued: "I am sor'ee I deed nut recognize you. Zhat was a long time ago." Christophe found himself saying, perhaps hoping to make the redhead feel better.

But Kyle looked back at him with an awkward smile and shrugged. "Forget it." He said reassuringly. "It WAS a long time ago." He agreed. Glancing through the window of Harbucks, he tilted his head toward it, "You work here?"

"Oui." Christophe answered, stubbing the nub of his cigarette beneath his boot again as he discarded it. "I took a sheeft from ze twitchee blond…" He mumbled. "Eet's a slow night." He shrugged.

Kyle nodded. "Well, do you mind if I come in? I like to study here." He admitted.

Christophe actually allowed a small chuckle to pass his lips; he couldn't remember the last time he'd actually laughed.

"Eet would nut be a ver'ee good business eef I was allowed to turn people away, ah?" He mused, shaking his head. "Of course, you are welcome." The Frenchman said; opening the door and letting Kyle walk in ahead of him.

Following in, Christophe headed back behind the counter as Kyle took off his book bag and settled himself at one particular table, rather close to the register. "_Qu'est-ce que tu veux_?" He said, tilting his head. When the redhead looked at him with a perplexed gaze, he couldn't help but smirk. "What do you want?" He translated casually.

"Uh… I guess I'll have a latte?" Kyle ordered as he took a seat and began to get out his books.

Christophe smirked and began to prepare his drink. Occasionally while he was working, he stole quick glances toward the curious redhead. Now that he had mentioned it, there was something familiar about him, specifically his eyes. Those green eyes were so unique in color, and reminded him of someone else…

After a few minutes had passed, Christophe noticed Kyle was already immersed in one of his school textbooks. Heading around the counter with the redhead's latte. Setting it down on the table, Kyle looked up at him and gave him a small, sweet smile. "Thanks." He said.

Christophe nodded and gave his own small smirk back to the redhead. Again, he could swear he saw a small blush appear on Kyle's cheeks – before he hastily looked back down to his textbook. Leaving the teen in peace, Christophe retreated back behind the counter. Figuring he had to keep busy now that there was at least 'one' customer in the store. Heading into the back room, the toned Frenchman began to re-organize and tidy the back storeroom. The cd he'd put on was still flowing through the store as he worked, lost in his own thoughts – which oddly enough, kept floating back toward the redhead in the cafe. How come he couldn't remember him? He could vaguely remember the event surrounding Viva La Resistance… but the faces were kind of muddled. He remembered a fat kid – and guard dogs. His lips turned up into a sneer; god he HATED guard dogs. But after that things were kind of hazy.

* * *

Glancing to his watch, Christophe furrowed his brow as he realized that almost two hours had passed since he'd been in this storeroom. Rubbing the back of his neck, he headed back into the café; hopefully no new customers had come in. But as his eyes quickly scanned the room he saw the redhead was still the only occupant. Smirking, he reached into the display case and pulled out a muffin; placing it on a small plate. Heading around the counter, he approached Kyle's table and placed the muffin onto it.

"Oh," Kyle said, raising his head. "Sorry, I didn't order a muffin." He said sheepishly.

Christophe gave him another casual grin, "I am aware, _mon petit chatte_." He mused. "You seem to be workeeng 'ard. Eet might, eh, 'elp you concentrate." The Frenchman shrugged.

"Well, thanks." Kyle answered – his cheeks coloring a bit as he gave the taller brunette a small smile.

Nodding, Christophe headed past the table and slipped back outside to have yet another cigarette. Lighting it up, he felt a bit of satisfaction; that was twice he'd made the redhead blush. And it made something stir inside him. Pride? Amusement? Intrigue? Maybe all three? There was definitely something nagging in the back of his mind that he couldn't put his finger on.

Hearing the door open, Christophe glanced behind him to see the redhead tentatively coming out of the café. Furrowing his brow, the Frenchman spoke up, "…You are leaveeng?" He asked; there was a hint of disappointment in his voice that Christophe hadn't really intended.

"N-No, not yet." Kyle smiled, glancing to the cigarette in Christophe's hand. "I was actually wondering if I could, uh, maybe bum one of those off you?" He asked tentatively.

Christophe smirked. "Of course." He said, taking his pack out of his pocket and handing it to the redhead. Kyle took one, and also nodded his head in thanks as Christophe gave him his lighter. He watched curiously as the teen lit it – and handed the Frenchman back his possessions. "Merci." He mumbled as he stuffed them back into his jeans.

"I don't smoke all the time." Kyle began to explain as he puffed away. "My mom would kill me if she found out. She's still pretty… um… high strung." He mumbled embarrassingly.

The brunette smirked, "Underztandable… eet iz a filthee 'abit." He admitted, his own cigarette bobbing up and down between his lips. "You should queet while you can."

"Oh yeah?" Kyle smirked. "Well why don't you quit?" He asked challengingly.

Christophe smiled; he could see that fiery spark he'd noticed in Kyle's eyes when they'd first met beginning to emerge. That was a sign he was starting to feel a bit more relaxed, at least. "Ah, I 'ave been smokeeng too long, _mon ami_. Eet iz ze onlee zhing zhat geeves me some peece." He mumbled.

"The _only_ thing?" Kyle repeated, looking a bit concerned. "There's gotta be something else that gives you some peace."

For some reason, Christophe kind of liked that the redhead felt a bit of concern toward him. "Nut realee…" He shrugged. "Smokeeng iz ze onlee refuge for me. Zhat… and maybe ze zoo."

"Zezoo?" Kyle repeated, quirking a brow.

Christophe nodded, "Oui. Ze zoo." He repeated. When Kyle's look of confusion didn't disappear, the Frenchman sighed, "You _know_, ze zoo?" He encouraged. "Aneemals? Elephants, Giraffes?" He loosely gestured with his hand, while his other plucked the cigarette from between his lips.

"Oh!" Kyle laughed. "The _Zoo_." He clarified, blushing a bit as he shook his head. "Sorry, your accent is kind of thick." He admitted.

The Frenchman nodded, "I apologize."

"No," The redhead said quickly. "I mean… I like it." Kyle shrugged, turning his eyes to look back at the ground as he continued to smoke.

Christophe found another amused smile gracing his lips as he watched the redhead keep his focus down, perhaps to once again hide the blush on his cheeks. Adorable wasn't a word that entered Christophe's vocabulary or mind too often. But it was the only way to describe this redheaded teen.

Flicking his cigarette to the ground, the Frenchman focused his eyes on Kyle again. "Well… maybee I can geeve you a lesson sometime, yes?" He mused.

Kyle didn't say anything; he just smiled and nodded, keeping his eyes down as he stubbed out his own cigarette.

As the two headed back inside, Christophe once more ventured behind the counter – while Kyle returned to his table. The redhead had just gotten comfortable, when he saw the muffin Christophe had given him still sitting there. Smiling to himself, Kyle began to pick at the delicious, fresh baked good while his eyes continued to read over his book again. But something else caught his attention.

"Christophe?" He called awkwardly.

From behind the counter, he heard an affirmative, "Mmm?"

"What song is this?" Kyle asked, taking another bite of his muffin.

Finally, the brunette poked back up from behind the counter holding a bag of freshly ground coffee. Placing it on top, he leaned against the sturdy structure and shifted his eyes upward, appearing to listen to the song that was playing.

"Ah." He smiled, looking back to Kyle. "Woolfe Like Me…" He told him. "Ze band iz Tv on Ze Radio. Eet iz a mixed cd." He explained.

Kyle nodded, "Cool…. I like it." He mumbled a bit sheepishly, looking back to his book with a small smile. After a few moments of re-reading the same line THREE times in his book, Kyle looked back up toward Christophe, to see that the French café worker had continued some of his duties.

He'd gotten quite good looking as he'd aged. He didn't look nearly as sketchy as he had when they were children… now his slightly disheveled, effortless appearance was an attractive quality. His dark hair was a bit unruly, but still looked soft and at least clean. His eyes were a wonderful, deep brown color – that only added to the appeal of his sharp features. Frankly, Kyle figured with the right clothes, Christophe could probably look like a male model; his body was fit with lean, toned muscle, and he was rather tall. Of course he tended to wear darker colors most of the time, which Kyle didn't REALLY mind… it only helped add to his mysterious, foreign allure.

_Great. That's the gayest thought I've had today_. He thought to himself awkwardly.

Unfortunately by the time Kyle had pulled himself out of his thoughts, he realized he was still staring – and Christophe was looking right back at him with an amused smirk.

Quickly tearing his eyes back down to the textbook in front of him, Kyle felt his face heat up a little as he frantically tried to submerse himself into his work again. Damn. He hadn't felt this inclined to stare at anyone since his past crush on Stan. Of course Stan wasn't gay – he and Wendy had been on and off and were finally back to being on (for good, it seemed). Kyle had admitted his crush to his best friend, who was nothing but nice about it. Gradually, the redhead overcame it, and realized his feelings had just been premature. Kyle had only come out to a few people so far; being gay in South Park wasn't exactly ideal. So naturally, feeling alone and vulnerable, he'd gravitated toward his best friend. But after realizing how silly it was, Kyle grew out of his crush – and since then, hadn't had another one. That is, until he saw Christophe. He'd almost forgotten that they went to the same school. After Kenny ventured back to hell, the town reverted back to normal. He remembered seeing Christophe at school the next day, and felt a sense of relief that the brunette was ok. It wasn't easy to see someone die in your arms.

Truth be told, he HAD been a bit disappointed when Christophe didn't immediately recognized him. Then again, he realized that the Frenchman might be a bit hazy on the details because he'd 'technically' died. Maybe that fucked with someone's memory: like, the mind reverted back to block a traumatic experience? It wouldn't be surprising. Kyle knew if HE died, he certainly wouldn't want to remember it.

"… 'ello?" The French voice broke through his thoughts.

Looking up, Kyle saw Christophe now holding his empty cup and plate. "Do you want anyzhing else?" He asked with a small smile on his lips.

"Oh, n-no thanks. I'm fine." He nodded with a flustered grin. Biting his lower lip, he watched as the French teen nodded and took his plate and cup back behind the counter – giving it a quick wash and dry. "Um… do you wanna sit down?" He found himself asking.

For a minute, Kyle regretted the lame offer. The guy was working for god sakes.

But to his surprise, Christophe answered. "Geeve me a minute, _mon ami_." He smiled, heading back into the stock room for a few minutes.

His stomach fluttered a bit as he tried to quickly rearrange some of his books and papers so they weren't so scattered around the small café table. He got everything organized just as Christophe re-emerged from the back room and headed toward Kyle's table. But just as he did, the café door opened and caught the attention of both boys.

Christophe's small smile immediately fell when he saw it was Gregory.

"_Sheet_." He mumbled beneath his breath quietly. While Gregory hadn't heard him, Kyle had – and looked up to Christophe with a confused expression.

Walking in, the British teen shot Christophe a slight glare. "May I speak with you, Christophe?" He asked in that pretentious voice of his.

Pulling out another cigarette, the Frenchman rolled his eyes and headed outside with Gregory. He didn't bother looking at Kyle for two reasons; one - he knew the redhead was probably wondering who Gregory was or was waiting for an introduction… and two - he didn't want Gregory to start quizzing Kyle on what they'd been doing in an empty café. Because of his own low self-esteem, Gregory tended to get jealous _really_ easily. The only person he had was Christophe, so naturally, the only person he wanted Christophe to have was him.

As they emerged into the cool night, Christophe immediately lit up – ignoring the sour glare Gregory was giving him. "It's nine o'clock. You were supposed to be at my house by seven." He grumbled.

"Een case you 'aven't noteeced, I am workeeng." The Frenchman responded coolly and calmly.

The Brit let out an exasperated sigh. "You could have told me that." He said distastefully. "And you didn't mention anything about a shift earlier today."

"Eet was a last minute zhing." He shrugged, not bothering to look at Gregory.

Noticing the blond take a step toward him out of his peripheral vision, the Frenchman looked up as Gregory stood in front of him. Raising his hand, he gently plucked Christophe's cigarette from between his lips – and put it between his own. Inhaling, he slowly exhaled with a long sigh… before his fist reared up, and punched Christophe across the face.

His head rocked to the side, and a small sound came from the back of his throat; it was a growl. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Christophe slowly re-opened his brown orbs and turned his head back to glare at Gregory. He knew he could take him; he could easily beat the shit out of this pretentious British fuck, and Gregory knew it.

But Kyle was still inside the café… and for some reason; he didn't like the idea of the redhead seeing him pummel someone.

"Zhat was a beetch move, eef ever zhere was one." He mumbled, taking his cigarette back from Gregory calmly; he shoved any anger out of his mind as best as possible. Gregory _hated_ it when Christophe didn't give in to his abuse. Part of the reason he did it was because he liked seeing Christophe get out of control, or at least show SOME emotion toward him (even if it was just anger or resentment). The Frenchman just seemed to damned vague and distant all the time.

Gregory sneered and let out another breath. "You'll make it up tomorrow." He grumbled, brushing past Christophe with a rough bump to his shoulder.

Ignoring the childish move, Christophe didn't even look back as Gregory continued down the street. Stubbing out his cigarette, he took another deep breath to suppress his anger. That little run in had successfully ruined what was shaping up to be a decent night. He'd kind of forgotten about Gregory completely, even though he'd meant to call and tell him he wouldn't be showing up. Maybe he could have avoided this unscheduled visit.

Heading back inside, Christophe noticed Kyle's eyes were immediately on him. He watched the redhead's face fall with concern, "What happened?" He asked.

"Nozhing." The Frenchman shrugged, giving the teen a weak smile.

But Kyle's brow furrowed, "But you're nose is bleeding." He observed.

Reaching up, Christophe touched his nose and found it was indeed bleeding. Snaking his tongue out to his lower lip, he noticed it tasted irony; the blood had already leaked down to his lips, and he hadn't paid it any attention. "Ah… eet appears so."

"Hang on," Kyle mumbled, moving over toward the counter. Heading back behind the register, Christophe watched the redhead move around with a weak smirk. It was kind of a brash move to start wandering around a café you DIDN'T work at while routing through its cupboards. "Sit down." Kyle instructed somewhat firmly.

Finally finding a rag, Kyle turned on the tap and dampened the cloth with cold water. Walking quickly back around the counter, the redhead sat down at his table with Christophe, and pulled his chair closer. As Christophe lifted his head, Kyle pressed the cloth beneath his nose.

"Just hold that there." Kyle told him gently.

Lifting his hand, Christophe grasped the cloth out of Kyle's hand. In the process, his fingers grazed over the back of Kyle's smooth hand, which caused the redhead to retreat his hand quickly as he blushed. Luckily Christophe didn't seem to notice this time, "_Merci_." He smiled, shifting his brown eyes to meet Kyle's green ones.

"Why the hell did he punch you?" Kyle asked. "I mean, I don't really want to pry into your life, but I just—"

He was cut off as Christophe sharply said. "Zhen don't." He interrupted. Staring at the redhead, he noticed his expression fell a bit in disappointment and slight embarrassment. Sighing, the Frenchman closed his eyes for a minute before refocusing his gaze. "I am sor'ee." He apologized in a sullen tone. "Ze dynamic I 'ave with Gregoree iz… a strange and long one." Christophe shrugged.

"I remember him from La Resistance." Kyle piped up, his voice almost sounding a bit bitter. "He was an asshole _then_, too."

Christophe found himself chuckling a bit. The two chatted idly before Christophe was making his way back behind the counter. His nose had stopped bleeding, and now there was only a bit of dried blood beneath his nose; the bridge of his nose also seemed a bit red… he knew it would probably bruise later. Rinsing off the cloth as best he could, Christophe ended up tossing it into the trash. Tweek would freak if he found a bloody cloth hanging around in the morning.

Kyle sat back at his table – trying to read his book again, though the Frenchman noticeably took his attention as he walked back across the café floor. Reaching the door he locked it. For a brief moment, Kyle began to panic. "What are you doing?" He asked tentatively. "He's not going to come _back_, is he?"

"Non." Christophe smirked. "Eet iz passed nine. We close." The Frenchman nodded.

Kyle nodded, "Oh, yeah I'm sorry. I'm probably keeping you." He mumbled, beginning to gather up his books.

"You are nut keepeeng me from anyzhing." Christophe calmly reassured him with a warm smile. "Eef you wait a few minutes, I will walk you 'ome." He offered, turning back and disappearing into the storeroom again.

Another blush painted Kyle's cheeks as he nodded silently in agreement; he didn't live too far from Main Street, but a walking buddy was always nice. _Especially a good-looking one_, Kyle's mind immediately added. Sighing, he cursed his own thoughts again when Christophe re-emerged. He waited patiently as Christophe closed down the café; quickly and expertly cleaning the machines, putting away from baked goods, and finally counting and locking the till.

Grabbing his own bag and black hoodie, Christophe tossed them on and gave Kyle another smile as they left he store. Taking the key out of his pocket, he locked the doors behind them – making sure everything was secure before they continued down the street. Taking out a cigarette, Christophe lit it and began to smoke as they walked leisurely down the evening Main Street. It was pretty empty at this time; South Park didn't really have that much of a nightlife. Of course there was the occasional hick bar open, but the main street businesses closed early. Harbucks was the only thing opened past 8pm during the week.

"Zo," Christophe's smooth, French voice began. "What were you studyeeng?" He asked as they walked. His cigarette was loosely dangling from between his lips, while his hands were shoved into the pockets of his black hoodie.

Kyle glanced over to him; burying his own hands into the pockets of his orange hoodie. "Oh, uh, just English. I have a stupid test tomorrow." He grumbled. Christophe nodded, but didn't really say anything after that. As the two continued to walk in silence, Kyle began to worry that maybe he was boring the other teen. "Is anything wrong?" The redhead asked awkwardly. He didn't want to pry into Christophe's business, but he was also getting uncomfortable with the silence, and figured it was because the Frenchman seemed to be deep in thought.

And Kyle had to face it… if he had 'prying' tendencies; it was only because he'd inherited them from his mother – who always tried to make everyone else's business her OWN.

"I am just zhinking…" Christophe mumbled, suddenly stopping in his tracks and turning to look at Kyle skeptically. The redhead stopped too automatically, not really sure what was going on. They were away from Main Street at this point, and were halfway between the residential and commercial area of the town. "I would like to try somezhing." He said finally. "Would you, eh… 'umor me?" The Frenchman asked with a small smirk.

Kyle nodded and shrugged, giving a small awkward scoff. "I guess so?" He said.

"Bon." Christophe said. "Kneel down." He instructed.

The redhead furrowed his brow suspiciously, and looked to the Frenchman oddly. Was he serious? After a few tentative moments, Christophe gestured down to the ground again silently and patiently. Letting a small sigh pass his lips, Kyle shrugged off his book bag, and knelt into the fluffy snow. "I hope you're going somewhere with this." Kyle grumbled. "I'm not going to suck your dick or anything."

Christophe actually gave his second chuckle of the night. Once Kyle was properly kneeling and waiting in confusion, Christophe got down himself; lying in the snow, as he rested his shoulders and head back onto Kyle's legs where he knelt. The redhead blushed. "What the hell are you doing?" He asked; his green eyes shifted around somewhat nervously. There were not many cars passing them by, thank god, but still.

"…'ush." He soothed. To his surprise, Kyle actually listened, and just knelt there; his hands came up to rest on Christophe's shoulders – since he wasn't really sure what else to do. For Kyle, it immediately made him think of the last time Christophe laid in his arms. He'd died shortly after. For some reason, those emotions came flooding back to him, and Kyle began to feel even more uncomfortable.

He looked down into the dark brown eyes of Christophe, who was looking right back up at him calmly; his eyes shifting in thought as he struggled to remember. Over the next few minutes, the awkwardness had shifted to contentment – and both couldn't help but stare quietly at the other. The redhead realized just how soothing it was looking into Christophe's eyes; they weren't as buggy and anxious as they had appeared when they were children... but now they were calm, and held a different kind of intensity to them.

Finally, a small smile passed over Christophe's lips.

It made Kyle blush for the fourth time that night, and he was suddenly thankful they were on a dark side street.

"Now, ze light, she fades…" Christophe began to sing quietly. "And darkness settles een…" He trailed off his voice as his eyes shifted over Kyle's face and he nodded. "I remembare you." The Frenchman purred.

The way his eyes were trailing over Kyle's features made the redhead want to crawl away in embarrassment.

He didn't know why this guy's eyes made him feel so vulnerable and so safe at the same time. "Well… great?" Kyle said, giving a nervous smile. He didn't really know what to say; it was kind of a relief that Christophe remembered him now – but the way he was looking at Kyle was a bit unsettling. He was torn between liking it, and feeling incredibly awkward kneeling in the snow with some guy's head cradled in his lap.

Noticing Kyle's hesitant, internal debate - Christophe pulled himself back up to his feet, and extended a hand down to help Kyle up. Grasping it, his lighter body was easily lifted back onto his feet by the stronger Frenchman.

Brushing the snow off themselves, they continued to walk once more in silence. But unlike before, the silence now was a comfortable one. Both were more at ease; Kyle could take comfort in the fact that Christophe finally remembered who he was… and Christophe could take comfort in the fact that Kyle's eyes had seemed familiar to him for a REASON. Those green orbs had reminded him of someone else; turns out that 'someone else' was Kyle himself. Those eyes were the last thing he'd seen before he'd died. It all seemed so clear now.

"Um," Kyle cleared his throat – pulling Christophe's attention back to the redhead as they stopped. "This is my house." He mumbled sheepishly, gesturing with a small turn of his head. The two stood there in silence for a few minutes, before Kyle was finally able to meet Christophe's eyes again. "Thanks for walking with me... I guess." He laughed, shrugging his shoulders. It was rare that Kyle Broflovski found himself at a loss of words, but the Frenchman tended to make his mind more muddled than he'd care to admit.

Christophe nodded. "_Pas de problème._" He shrugged casually. "I…'ope you do well on your test." He smiled weakly, before turning and continuing down the street alone.

Kyle watched him as his form got further and further away: smoke occasionally drizzling up around his head as he continued to puff on his cigarette. The redhead felt another small fluttering in his stomach.

"Damn." He cursed himself aloud, turning to walk up to his house.

What an impractical person to get a crush on…


	3. I'm Handling It

**Disclaimer:** I don't own South Park, or the characters in this story. I simply wrote out the scenario in pure boredom. XD… like all of my other stories lol

**Pairing: **Christophe/Kyle, Christophe/Gregory

**Summary: **In his last year of high school, Christophe comes to realize he's had just about enough of Gregory's pretentious abuse. But oddly enough, a gentle redhead ends up being there to help him heal his wounds.

**Notes I: **I can't stay away from Kyle/Christophe lol I love them both too much

**Notes II :** WOOT … all the usual; smut, fluff, romance, angst, hurt, friendship, etc.

**Notes III:** This will mostly be rated **T**, though occasionally there might be some **M** for violence/sex.

**Song:** Wolf Like Me – by – TV on the Radio

* * *

Over the next few days, Kyle found himself subconsciously searching the teenage crowds of their high school for glimpses of Christophe. For whatever reason, he couldn't get the Frenchman out of his mind. It might have even delighted him to discover that Christophe was having a similar problem. Since parting ways with the intriguing redhead, the brunette hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. There was an unknown, fascinating quality about Kyle that Christophe couldn't put his finger on. But those eyes…

Looking up into Kyle's concerned, green orbs had brought a flood of memories back to him. He remembered Kyle, and two of his other unimportant friends, arriving at his house and asking him to help. He'd been resistant at first, but the sight of the anxious redhead changed his mind. The Mole had ended up taking them to the USO show, and tried his best to free Terrance and Phillip. The fat one known as Cartman fucked up – as Christophe should have expected him to – and didn't shut off the alarm. Dogs had mauled him before he'd been able to escape back to the three terrified boys.

Kyle had held onto him as he died; he'd soothed him, told him they'd get him back home… and that he couldn't face his mother alone.

After that, everything had gone black.

He only remembered waking up in his room… still grounded. His memory was fuzzy, and for the longest time, Christophe had been convinced it had all been a dream. So, naturally, he ignored any brief flashes of memory as just his imagination.

Deciding to venture outside to the smoking session between classes, Kyle wondered if he might catch sight of Christophe. _You're pathetic_, the redhead scolded himself. He was behaving like someone with a stupid, elementary crush. It's not like he was a big smoker, so he had no reason to go out there OTHER than to see Christophe. Maybe the Frenchman wouldn't notice.

_Of course he'll notice_, Kyle reminded himself. _He'll notice, and he'll give you that small, knowing smirk of his_… Even the thought of it made a familiar feeling flutter in his stomach again.

When he got outside, he saw Christophe WAS in fact there… but it wasn't the Christophe he'd been expecting to see.

As their eyes met, Kyle's anxiety fell away to show concern instead. The attractive Frenchman's features were marred. He had a small bandage over the bridge of his nose, and it was slightly discolored with a dark bruise. There was another bruise beneath his right eye, and a small gash across the top of his left. A healing split lip, and a slight look of exhaustion topped all that off. Christophe noticed Kyle's immediate concern, and couldn't help but smile as his cigarette rested loosely between his fingers. "Do nut wor'ee… eet iz nut as bad as eet looks." He mused gently.

"What the hell happened?" Kyle snapped instantly, closing the distance between them to get a better look at the marred, attractive face of the Frenchman. "Who did that to you?" He asked.

The brunette sighed, "Eet doesn't mattare… I am fine." He soothed, giving Kyle another gentle smile. There was a brief, sharp pain in his lower lip, but he ignored it.

"I can see that." Kyle grumbled sarcastically. Pulling the sleeve of his orange hoodie down over his hand, the redhead lifted it up, and placed the fabric over Christophe's lower lip. "The cut on your lip is bleeding again." He informed him, trying to at least stop the small drizzle of blood that had begun to drip with Christophe's smile. The sleeve of his sweater wasn't exactly ideal, but he didn't have any Kleenex on him.

Christophe looked down at the shorter redhead warmly; his brown eyes trailing over the odd, angry concern that flushed Kyle's features. Shifting his own green eyes upward, he caught the Frenchman staring down at him, and he quickly averted his eyes – trying to ignore yet another blush that had crept onto his cheeks. Fuck, how come this guy could make him blush with a mere look?

"Deed you come out 'ere for a reazon?" Christophe asked curiously.

Ignoring the question (out of his own embarrassment for having NO response), he huffed out a breath. "I asked you who did this to you." He repeated calmly, furrowing his brow stubbornly.

"Ah, _mon petit chatte_," Christophe smiled, grasping Kyle's arms and tugging the redhead a bit closer to him. "Are you worried about me?" He asked in an amused, hushed tone.

Kyle's face flushed, and he pulled himself out of Christophe's arms awkwardly. "No," He debated, running a hand through his mop of hair. "I just… your face is fucked up." He mumbled, keeping his eyes away from meeting the brunette's. "And for some reason you won't tell me who did it."

"I told you… I do nut want you to wor'ee." He explained, giving a casual shrug as he flicked his cigarette away. Standing up a bit straighter, Christophe moved to stand in front of Kyle, and placed a finger beneath his chin – to force the redhead to look up at him. "…'Ow was your test?" He asked with another smile, intending to distract the redhead with another topic.

It seemed to work; though Christophe figured the redhead knew exactly what he was doing. But Kyle could tell he wasn't going to get any more information from the Frenchman. "It was fine." He answered reluctantly. Biting his lower lip, his eyes ran over Christophe's battered face again. "Look, if you're not going to tell me what happened, then… at least… let me treat your wounds properly." He mumbled. "Whoever bandaged your nose and cleaned your cuts did a horrible job."

"I deed eet myzelf," He smirked.

Kyle huffed out a breath, "Well, then you did a horrible job." He said, giving a small, teasing smirk.

_Just accept the fact he's not going to tell you, and let it go for once_. He instructed himself. "Just…" He sighed, shaking his head. "Just find me if you need help cleaning up your cuts… and stuff." Kyle told him, a small blush appearing on his cheeks. "If it happens again."

"I weel keep zhat in mind." Christophe purred, taking another step toward the redhead.

But once more, before he was able to get too close – a familiar voice interrupted. "Christophe." Gregory said.

Turning, the redhead and the brunette saw the British teen approaching; his eyes narrowed slightly. Kyle tensed up a bit, remembering Gregory punching Christophe the other night. To his surprise, the Frenchman turned, and stood slightly in front of Kyle… almost like he was protecting him? The redhead thought the move was a bit strange; should he have a reason to fear Gregory? Was Gregory responsible for the wounds on Christophe's face?

"Who are you?" The British teen asked a bit defensively.

The redhead cleared his throat. "Uh… Kyle Broflovski." He nodded.

"Right. Your mother successfully evoked the return of Satan." Gregory chuckled pretentiously, making a small show of looking Kyle up and down. "I imagine you've had to endure many jokes from Eric Cartman… regarding the irony of how a _Jew_ almost brought about the apocalypse." He smirked.

He furrowed his brow, and was about to snap a response to the blond – when Christophe cut him off. "Enough, Gregor'ee…" He said calmly, turning his dark brown eyes up to look into the blue ones of the Brit. For some reason, they seemed to have a brief staring contest; it was like they were having a telepathic, intense conversation. Kyle couldn't help but notice their bodies had tensed as they stood, squaring off.

"Uh, maybe I should go…" Kyle mumbled sheepishly.

Gregory flicked his eyes back to the redhead. "Yes. That's a wonderful idea." He agreed sternly.

Turning, Christophe watched as the gentle redhead left his side and headed back inside the school. His deep eyes lingered on the doors Kyle had disappeared through, and his blond companion couldn't help but feel that familiar sting of jealousy. What the hell was so captivating about Kyle Broflovski? Being on the student council, Gregory had made it his business to know as many people in their year as possible. Of course he knew (and remembered) the group of boys, which included the redhead, Stan Marsh, Eric Cartman, Kenny McCormick; they were always getting into trouble.

The only reason he'd asked Kyle 'who he was' when he'd arrived – was because he wanted to downplay the redhead's importance in front of Christophe. Why? It made him feel better… and besides, he didn't like the way the two had been speaking, or the way Christophe had been smiling at him. He hadn't seen the Frenchman smile in years. It grated on his nerves and made his self-esteem plummet.

"Planning for the school's anniversary party is complete." He informed Christophe coolly. "You're coming over tonight." Gregory told him in a matter-of-fact tone; like there was no choice in the matter.

Christophe didn't answer.

* * *

A strong fist struck his face again – making his wounds from the previous night ache all over again. The cut on his lip had even re-opened, and was drizzling blood from this fresh dose of sexual abuse Christophe was enduring. It wasn't really 'abuse' in the context that Christophe simply permitted it to happen. It wasn't rape, it was just tedious; at least, for the Frenchman. Gregory was far more into it.

Feeling the smaller blond straddle his hips, Christophe spit out the blood that had begun to accumulate in his mouth off to the side – before slowly turning his eyes back to Gregory. The Brit threaded his fingers into Christophe's dark, unruly hair and tugged on it violently; holding his head in place while he punched him again.

Resting his head back, and trying to blink away his blurry vision from two hits to the head – Christophe became aware of Gregory's hungry, desperate lips trailing up along his neck; sucking and biting the skin there as his hands ran along the Frenchman's bare, muscle toned torso and chest. The Brit groaned and rubbed their hips together, clearly off in his own world… because Christophe was not at all in the same state of euphoria. His dark brown eyes were empty and his body was tense. This whole affair was becoming more and more of an ordeal: one he didn't really want to play into anymore.

"Do you surrender?" Gregory hissed, wrapping his arms tightly around Christophe's shoulder.

The tied up Frenchman answered automatically; his voice removed and dull. "Oui."

Moaning, Gregory captured Christophe's lips in a deep, forceful kiss – continuing to make small, approving sounds, even though the taste of blood was marring any natural flavor the brunette might produce. The kiss was coppery tasting; bitter and tangy all at once as the blond's tongue swirled around the Frenchman's bleeding lips.

"Are you hard?" Gregory purred, pulling away from the kiss as he moved his hand down into his own jeans; rubbing himself.

Christophe kept his eyes hooded as he honestly answered, "Non."

"No?" Gregory repeated harshly in disbelief. Running his hand down Christophe's chest, he rubbed it between the apex of the brunette's legs. He watched for any kind of response… but to his surprise, there wasn't one. Christophe looked just as removed and unimpressed as he had the whole night. "What the fuck's wrong with you?" Gregory snapped impatiently, gripping his hand into Christophe's hair again.

Forced to look back at the blond, Christophe simply stared at him. He was unresponsive; he was unemotional and deadpan… it irritated Gregory to NO end. Beating the shit out of Christophe and roughly fucking use to at LEAST get a rise out of him. Of course, that 'rise' was normally one of anger, but still, it was a readable emotion. But now, Gregory was beginning to see that Christophe just pitied him.

And he wasn't about to be looked down upon by this Frenchman.

Growling, Gregory moved off Christophe's lap, and roughly shoved him backward. The brunette tipped over onto his back; the chair he was tied onto going with him. When he hit the floor, he hissed in pain and growled. Since his arms were tied behind the chair, his arms landed first – followed by the wooden frame of the chair, and his natural body weight. His arms were twisted awkwardly now as he grit his teeth and looked up; Gregory was hovering around him, as he lay defenseless on the floor.

"You think I'm pathetic?" He asked rhetorically. "DON'T feel sorry for me, you French piece of shit." The Brit snapped harshly. "I keep you around for YOUR sake! You're a fucking loner, and I feel sorry for YOU because of your total lack of social skills. This isn't for me - it's for you! _You're_ the fucked up one! You ARE!" He yelled frantically.

But still, Christophe just stared at him calmly. A slow, small smirk grew on the Frenchman's lips. Gregory was a terrible liar. Of course this was all for him, since Christophe had made it clear time and time again that he didn't feel anything but pity for his blond companion. They'd only continued this because Gregory wanted to; Gregory forced him to. Feeling self-conscious once again, Gregory threw a fit of rage, and began to kick Christophe repeatedly as he lay trapped on the floor, tied to a chair.

The brunette was forced to endure the beating, before Gregory fell to his knees and straddled Christophe's chest. Grabbing a fistful of the Frenchman's hair, the blond forced him to look at him and stay still – while his other hand quickly unzipped his pants and pulled out his hard cock. Growling, Christophe turned his head to the side at first, which only earned him a few more punches to the face, neck and chest. Gripping onto his hair and yanking on it roughly, Gregory forced Christophe to look back at him, before he shoved his erection right into his mouth.

The blond groaned, and immediately began to thrust; fucking Christophe's face with a level of hatred and desperation on his features. He made no sense… none at all. And it bothered him that Christophe saw it. No one else at school knew how pathetic he really was; how desperately he wanted to be loved and accepted. He figured by being pretentious, people would eventually respect him.

Gripping onto Christophe's head for dear life, he ignored the growls from the Frenchman as he continued to thrust into his mouth to find his own release. Personally, Gregory hated that Christophe let him torture him. He knew the brunette could easily hold his own, if not even kick Gregory's ass if he wanted… but there was only one reason someone endured continued abuse. Pity. He didn't WANT Christophe to pity him, he wanted Christophe to WANT him back. Playing on Christophe's generous pity was the _only_ thing Gregory could cling to, in the hopes that one day, he would be able to convince Christophe that he needed him - just as much as Gregory needed Christophe.

After a few rough moments, Gregory finally came – climaxing into Christophe's mouth. As he slowly pulled out, he noticed Christophe spit again; discharging the cum from his mouth with more blood. Glaring daggers up at the blond who straddled his chest, Christophe simply sneered… and still, said nothing.

Eventually the Brit untied him from the chair, and watched angrily as Christophe tossed his black shirt back on over his muscled, bruised and bleeding torso. His pants had stayed on for the duration of their time together, since Gregory hadn't had the opportunity to strip the Frenchman completely bare like he'd wanted. Grabbing his black hoodie again, he zipped it up and jogged up the stairs of Gregory's basement without another word, or another look, to the blond sitting there. It was the way their nights usually ended; Christophe would leave without speaking, and Gregory would watch him go; a slight feeling of panic and dependence ringing through his body as watched Christophe disappear…

He wouldn't loose him. He couldn't. He would convince Christophe that he needed him… he would make him see, eventually, how good they were together.

* * *

Tick.

Kyle tilted his head at hearing a quiet sound from somewhere in his room. Thinking it was just his imagination, the redhead went back to reading his notes. It was almost eleven thirty at night… he'd have to go to bed soon. That Park County High 15 Year Anniversary celebration was tomorrow evening, and he had to go. Kyle knew there were lots of other things he'd rather do on a Saturday night, but he was kind of obligated to go to this stupid celebration. His father was an alumnus, so his parents would also be in attendance. He also knew Stan was going with Wendy, since she was on the student council and required to go – so at least he'd know someone else there. Kyle had been asked to go because he was the top student in his year; the staff, apparently, wanted a good 'representation' of the future.

Tick.

He heard the sound again – and it pulled him once more from his notes. Sliding off his bed, the curious redhead pressed his ear against his bedroom door, wondering briefly if it was coming from the hall.

Tick.

Turning his head toward the sound, he finally realized it was something hitting his window. Frowning, he walked over to it and opened it up – sticking his head outside to investigate. Nothing in his mind could have prepared him for what he saw; Christophe, standing below his window, giving him a small smile. It would have been a nice surprise, had the Frenchman not appeared to be bleeding and bruised. God, he looked worse than when Kyle had seen him at school earlier. What the hell had happened between school and now?

"May I come up?" Christophe asked in that smooth, alluring French voice of his.

How the hell was Kyle going to say no? "Yeah, just hurry the fuck up." He hissed, rolling his eyes. "I don't want my mom to see you."

Smirking, the Frenchman nodded, and expertly scaled the side of Kyle's house – propelling himself up by gripping some decorative lattice that bordered the side of his house and was entwined with ivy. Managing to hop and grip the roof, the brunette pulled himself up and casually walked across the slanted rooftop, before slipping inside. Kyle had to inwardly admire his athleticism. He was so toned and in tune with his body… he was kind of surprised Christophe WASN'T really a mercenary of some kind. He had the confidence, the poise, and the skill to pull it off.

Once he was inside, Kyle's green eyes ran over him. "Jesus Christ…" He mumbled.

"I… apologize for bargeeng in," His charming voice purred. "But I was wondereeng eef your offare to… 'elp me tend to my wounds was steel… open?" Christophe asked.

Looking over the brunette skeptically, Kyle's resolve disintegrated for the time being. He figured he could hold off on his questions until later. "Wait here." He instructed, before he slipped quietly into his hall. Taking the moment to himself, Christophe painfully slipped off his shirt again; hissing as his fresh bruises and cuts continued to sting with certain movements. Draping his t-shirt across the edge of Kyle's bed, he took a moment to distract himself by inspecting the redhead's room.

It was nice. It was cozy, clean and well organized. When he heard the door open again, Christophe turned to see Kyle slipping back in with some rubbing alcohol, bandages and gauze. When the redhead caught sight of Christophe shirtless, he seemed to blush, and fluster himself a bit as he set the first-aid supplies down. His body was so ripped and gorgeous; even amidst the blood and bruising that was beginning to show.

"J-Just sit down on the edge of the bed," Kyle told him awkwardly, trying to keep his eyes from ogling Christophe's torso. "I don't want my mom to find blood stains on my carpet." He grumbled.

Christophe chuckled as he obeyed the teen's request. "Eet seems your mozher is steel controleeng your life, ah?" He mused quietly as he sat down.

"She's not controlling it as much as she THINKS she is," Kyle responded bitterly as he began to dab some cotton balls in the sterilizing alcohol. "But I still have to deal with her constant interrogations and nagging. Though now that I'm getting older, she's realizing she doesn't have as much sway as she used to. I think she's starting to focus on Ike."

Having no real idea who 'Ike' was, Christophe just nodded silently – assuming that was probably his brother or sister. It was such an odd name. Keeping his dark eyes on Kyle, he watched as the redhead took a seat beside him, and gently pressed the alcohol soaked cotton ball to a gash on his chest. Christophe sharply hissed in with the painful contact. "Sheet…" He breathed.

"Yeah, THAT is certainly what you got _kicked_ out of you." Kyle mumbled unhappily as he continued to treat the wounds.

The Frenchman tilted his head curiously. "Eef I am… intrudeeng… I can leave."

"N-No," He answered, flicking his eyes back to the warm, deep ones of the brunette. "I just… _why_ won't you tell me what's going on?" He asked suspiciously; a hint of tenderness lingering in his tone. "I know it has something to do with Gregory. I'm not stupid."

Christophe's eyes narrowed. "And what makes you zhink eet iz Gregor'ee?" He asked challengingly.

"Because he punched you in the face outside the coffee house," Kyle reminded him. "And you actually let him get _away_ with it." The redhead finished, tossing away yet another bloody cotton ball. Grabbing the roll of gauze, Kyle shifted closer. "Hold still." He directed, beginning to wrap the roll around a particular bruised cut that was forming on Christophe's collarbone. He shrouded the bandage under Christophe's arm and across his chest in order to hold it in place. As he did this, his hands obviously came into contact with the Frenchman's smooth skin. Kyle tried to ignore the contact, but it was hard when Christophe wouldn't stop staring calmly at him.

Flicking his brown eyes down to Kyle's working hands, Christophe sighed. "I told you… eet iz complicated." He responded.

"Yeah, yeah…" Kyle huffed.

"Ah," Christophe smiled. "You are nut, eh… _worried_ about me, are you _mon petit chatte_?" He purred, finding the English words through his smooth French accent. He'd asked Kyle this question before, and the redhead avoided it.

Kyle blushed and shook his head. "So I can only assume Gregory is going to this Fifteen year Celebration for Park County High because he's on the student council. Does that, uh, mean you're going too?" He asked, trying to change the subject. Crisis averted. Kyle wasn't sure why it was such a big deal to him to HIDE the fact he was, indeed, worried about Christophe.

"Oui." He answered, accepting the topic shift for now. It made him feel good to know that Kyle's refusal to answer his comment – seemed to weigh some possible truth to it. "…'E wants me to go along while 'e socializes. Eet will probabl'ee be a boreeng night." Pausing, the Frenchman allowed his eyes to drift over the redhead's attractive face. "_Venez-vous_?" He asked.

The redhead nodded slowly, securing the bandage around Christophe's shoulder finally – before moving up to start dabbing the blood away from his lip. "Yeah. The school invited a few of their top students to act as representatives for the 'future' of South Park." He grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Well," Christophe interjected smoothly. "I guess… eet will nut be zo bad now. At least zhere weel be anozher person I can suffare with." Leaning closer to Kyle, Christophe shifted his body a bit so his legs were resting against the redhead's. "Unless – you are steel mad at me…"

Kyle swallowed as he felt his cheeks heating up again. Lowering his hands from Christophe's face, he looked down. "I'm not mad at you… I'm just…" He said, trailing off eventually as he found himself at a loss for words. He just didn't like seeing him hurt – that's what it came down to. For some reason, despite having little to no contact since childhood, Kyle still felt connected to Christophe.

For a few minutes, the two teens were silent; only their breathing could be heard as their eyes stayed focused on one another. Kyle took in a sharp breath as he suddenly became aware of Christophe's hands casually resting on his thighs. When the hell did he put them there? Kyle thought to himself. Surely he would have noticed something like that. He could feel the brunette inching closer and closer – but his movement was slow; like he was silently testing the waters to see how close Kyle would actually let him get. Raising his own hand, the redhead gently trailed it up Christophe's arm; he could feel the bandage he'd dressed beneath his fingers as he got closer to his neck. Feeling a bit bold, Kyle wrapped his hand around the back of Christophe's neck, and was prepared to take a leap of faith and kiss the Frenchman… when instead, the brunette hissed and winced in pain.

Frowning, Kyle removed his hand, and was surprised to see blood on his fingertips. Looking up to Christophe worriedly, he saw the Frenchman sigh.

"I forgot about _zhat_ one…" He admitted with a small smile; like his charming grin would soften the redhead's concern.

Narrowing his eyes, Kyle let out a quick, annoyed breath. Reaching over for a small cloth, he handed it to Christophe so he could wipe the blood from the back of his neck. "Are there any other injuries you're not telling me about?" He asked, trying to keep his obvious irritation under control. How the hell did someone forget an injury?

"Eh." Christophe mumbled with a shrug. "Aside from a few bruised bones, cougheeng up blood and feeling a bit dizz'ee… zhat iz eet."

Kyle looked to him sadly, his green eyes desperately trying to read Christophe. How could he be so relaxed about the whole thing? And when had he coughed up blood? It must have been before he came to Kyle's room.

"I really hate this." The redhead sighed. "You don't tell me _anything_." He complained bitterly.

The Frenchman couldn't help but chuckle weakly. "You would get too upset. I would end up 'aving to comfort _you_…" He mused; his dark, warm eyes trailing over Kyle's face and it's obvious discomfort. It was touching to know that this teen seemed to care about his well being so much; Christophe hadn't felt this amused in years… it was rare anyone cared how he felt, or took notice of the condition he was in. But here was this redhead, ready to treat his wounds and scold him for being so secretive. It was amazing how much his safety still mattered to Kyle. It was like he was dying in his arms all over again – only this time, Christophe was well aware of the look in Kyle's eyes, and the tenderness he was being treated with. And yes, the Frenchman could tell that he was getting impatient and irritated with Christophe's apparent disregard for his own personal safety, but all the brunette was able to think about was that 'near' kiss. Truthfully, Kyle was distracting. And Christophe had found more interest in getting closer to the redhead. So of course he'd forgotten about his wounds momentarily. Hell, he was sitting on a bed with his shirt off, with an attractive redhead who was patching him up.

It was like playing 'doctor' for grown ups.

Placing his finger beneath Kyle's chin, he lifted the redhead's face back up to his. It was about the third time he'd done it since they had reconnected. "Eef eet iz bad, I'll tell you." He reassured him gently.

"Coughing up blood sounds bad to me." Kyle commented flatly; his eyes glazed with worry as they focused on the Frenchman.

Christophe smirked. "And I'm telleeng you." He shrugged.

"And I'm handling it." Kyle answered quickly, narrowing his eyes.

The brunette let out a slow breath, and removed his fingers from beneath Kyle's chin. "Tell me some more about zhis… feefteenth anniversar'ee celebration." He nudged. Looking back toward Kyle, he saw that the redhead was still staring at him sullenly – his green eyes still showing great depths of concern.

"I _am_ handling it." He repeated.

Knowing that Kyle wasn't going to let this go, Christophe slipped off the bed. "Well Kyel… you ween trooper of ze month." He mumbled casually, grabbing his black t-shirt and tossing it back on; his voice sounded a bit sarcastic, even a little annoyed.

Since his torso was freshly bruised and bandaged, he couldn't help but wince a bit as he pulled the fabric over his head. Picking up his black hoodie, Christophe zipped it up and turned back to see the redhead still sitting on his bed – looking a bit torn. Or was it heartbroken? Whatever the look was, it made Christophe feel guilty for responding to his concern with an edge to his voice. Sighing, the Frenchman walked over and knelt down in front of Kyle's legs. He placed his hands on either side of the redhead's hips as he looked up at him.

"_Merci_." He purred gently. "I will see you at ze anniversary celebration, oui?" He asked.

Kyle looked down at Christophe sadly, but nodded and gave him a weak smile. "Sure. I'll see you then." He answered.

Giving him a warm smile, Christophe stood; on his way up, he leaned in and lightly pressed his lips against the side of Kyle's cheek. The redhead's breath caught in his throat at the soft contact – and he found himself subtly leaning into the touch. But the Frenchman pulled away, and disappeared out the window… but not before giving Kyle a lingering, appreciative look.

Once he was gone, Kyle released a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding.


	4. I Don't Like Triangles

**Disclaimer:** I don't own South Park, or the characters in this story. I simply wrote out the scenario in pure boredom. XD… like all of my other stories lol

**Pairing: **Christophe/Kyle, Christophe/Gregory

**Summary: **In his last year of high school, Christophe comes to realize he's had just about enough of Gregory's pretentious abuse. But oddly enough, a gentle redhead ends up being there to help him heal his wounds.

**Notes I: **I can't stay away from Kyle/Christophe lol I love them both too much

**Notes II :** WOOT … all the usual; smut, fluff, romance, angst, hurt, friendship, etc.

**Notes III:** This will mostly be rated **T**, though occasionally there might be some **M** for violence/sex.

* * *

Taking a sip from his plastic cup of fruit punch, Christophe's dark eyes dully scanned the crowds and faces surrounding him at the Anniversary Celebration for Park County High. God he wished the punch was at least spiked… maybe _then_ he'd be able to enjoy himself a bit more. This was all achingly boring for the brunette. He'd been forced to make rounds with Gregory, who was talking up the attendees and adults like he was already one of them, and 'wise' beyond his years. He would introduce Christophe as his 'close' friend. As always, people seemed interested and intrigued by Christophe's origins, and the fact he was French. He entertained the stereotype for the night like he was supposed to; he told entertaining, witty and 'mature' jokes – which only seemed more suave and amusing due to his smooth accent and charming anecdotes.

He was the perfect, European arm candy. He was alluring in an effortless, casual way; people felt comfortable around him, and their intrigue only increased each time the Frenchman was silent, or gave an enticing smirk in response to someone else's comment. Undoubtedly, this was yet _another_ reason Gregory was so intent on keeping him around.

Thankfully the British blond had to abandon his schmoozing in order to introduce the various speakers at this alumni celebration. This won Christophe his freedom, at least, for a few hours. Slipping through the crowd calmly, his dark eyes began to search while he slowly walked around the edge of the gymnasium. It had been beautifully decorated for this alumni gathering; balloons were hung, tables were set up with food and guest books – while various, old school photos were on display. It was typical, but well done for what it was.

As he hugged the walls and tried to stay out of sight, Christophe's eyes finally settled on a familiar head of red hair. Kyle. He smirked to himself as he honed in on the redhead; watching him speak with Stan and Wendy from a distance. Truthfully, the presence of the compassionate teen was the only thing really keeping Christophe inside the building (for now). He looked good; he was wearing a button up dark gray shirt, complete with a subtle tie, black jacket and black dress pants. The redhead looked so relaxed in this pretentious atmosphere – comparatively, at least, to everyone else who was also wearing a suit and tie. But despite how nervous and flustered Kyle seemed to get around the Frenchman sometimes, his general sense of self-esteem and confidence around others was evident to Christophe. And it was a refreshing change from the constant need of reassurance and praise Gregory required.

He watched as Wendy excused she and Stan, and the redhead was left standing alone. She no doubt had to keep up with similar small jobs like Gregory, since she too was on the student council...

* * *

Kyle took another sip of his drink as his green eyes shifted through the room, looking for something else to turn his attention on… when he suddenly caught sight of Christophe across the room, looking right back at him. Kyle felt a bit of heat rise in his cheeks at the sight of the magnetic teen. He looked so handsome in a suit. The brunette dawned a black jacket, black pants and a black shirt. He wore no tie, but the top two buttons on his collar were undone, giving him that 'casual formal' look; he pulled it off incredibly well. Again, Kyle couldn't help but think Christophe could be some kind of male model… it was unheard of for someone to be THAT good looking, especially in South Park.

Without realizing it, the redhead found his feet carrying him in the direction of Christophe, who, was also moving toward him in a smooth, almost predatory way. _Jesus, he looks like a panther_. Kyle mused to himself, noticing Christophe's always-focused deep brown eyes and sly, subtle smirk. Despite the healing injuries on his face, the Frenchman still looked incredibly attractive.

"Hey." Kyle greeted as they finally stood before one another.

Christophe nodded. "_Bonjour_." He greeted.

"So… what do you think?" The redhead asked, glancing around the decorated gym.

The Frenchman kept his eyes on Kyle, instead of taking in the sight of the room. "What would you prefer?… Ze 'onest answer? Or a bullsheet one?" He asked, tilting his head with a small smirk.

"Let's go with honest." Kyle chuckled, looking back to Christophe.

He nodded, "Eet iz ovare-done, like everyzhing else in zhis school." The brunette shrugged; his eyes flickered up, briefly searching for any sign of Gregory, before he looked back down toward Kyle. "But… at leest, zhere iz _one_ nice zhing to look at." He purred, trailing his eyes over the redhead to make his point.

The comment, and confident display of checking him out, made Kyle blush.

"Uh… t-thanks," Kyle said, clearing his throat awkwardly as he tried to recover. It didn't happen a lot – but the redhead could almost swear Christophe was hitting on him. While he'd gotten the same impression before when they'd spoken – he couldn't be sure. Granted, that had been in the coffee house when they'd _first_ re-connected, though it had taken the Frenchman a while to remember him. And the second time, when Kyle had been patching him up, they had _almost_ kissed before another one of Christophe's wounds got in the way.

He didn't know what to make of it. Besides, in Kyle's mind: why would a hot, alluring French teen EVER want to hook up with a brainy, redheaded Jew?

"…Care to join me for a cigarette, _mon petit chatte_?" Christophe asked, taking another step toward Kyle.

Kyle nodded. "Sure." He answered. Quickly, his eyes scanned the room. "Let's just go before my parents spot me." The redhead grumbled.

Christophe smirked, giving him a slight nod – before they made their way through the crowds, and to the side exit doors of the gym. Slipping outside quickly, both took a deep breath in, like it was so much easier to breathe now that they were away from the stuffy confines of the celebration. Reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket, Christophe removed a pack of cigarettes and plucked out two. Placing both between his lips, he lit them simultaneously, puffing to make sure they were both aflame… before taking one out of his mouth, and handing it to Kyle with a cocky grin.

"Thanks, I'm sure I could have done that myself." Kyle smirked, rolling his eyes.

Christophe shrugged, "You deed nut zhink zhat was more… intimate?" He purred.

"I…" Kyle started, but the flush in his cheeks prevented him from going further. "You're such a weirdo." He corrected, giving an awkward smile and turning his eyes down as he smoked.

The Frenchman grinned and took a few steps toward him. "Oui... but you like eet."

"Are you always this full of yourself?" The redhead challenged with his own smirk as he leaned back against the cold, brick wall of the school.

Christophe chuckled, "Onlee when I 'ave a reason to be." He responded. Moving to stand beside Kyle, he propped his arm up against the wall right alongside the redhead, so he was bordering his torso, and thus, comfortably able to look down at him. Pulling the cigarette away from his lips and holding it between his index and middle finger lightly, the brunette ran his eyes over Kyle's face again. "Do I… make you nervous?" He purred.

"Are you _trying_ to?" Kyle scoffed, raising a brow as he hesitantly looked up to meet Christophe's eyes.

The Frenchman returned his gaze with a warm smile. "Oui." He answered simply.

"Then no." The redhead huffed defiantly, looking away from Christophe and continuing to smoke.

He couldn't help but chuckle. "Ah, Kyel… you look zo… sexee when you are tryeeng to lie." Christophe mused; a smooth streamline of smoke trailing out his nose as he flicked his cigarette away. He'd only smoked about half of it, and for some reason, was more interested in pursuing the redhead than smoking (for once). His comment obviously had an impact on Kyle, because he noticed the other teen tense. "Are you goeeng to stick to zhat storee?" He asked.

"It's not a story…" Kyle blushed, shaking his head. "You're just so—" But he stopped himself as his green eyes were met with deep brown again. Christophe noticed the defiant spark in his eyes waver; either he was playing hard to get, or he was genuinely conflicted. Personally, Christophe chose to believe he was just playing hard to get. You didn't blush THAT much around someone you weren't attracted to. "Infuriating... and... fascinating." Kyle finally finished.

Christophe smiled. "Well, zo are you." He shrugged, leaning closer to the redhead. "Eez zhat a bad zhing?" He purred.

"I don't know yet." Kyle admitted, tossing his own cigarette aside. He didn't really feel like finishing it; for some reason, his stomach was beginning to turn and his heart was fluttering nervously. When did Christophe move so close to him? "We barely know each other." He reminded the Frenchman.

But Christophe shrugged, "Zhat eez nut important." He said calmly. Kyle felt the brunette's hand wrap around his arm and tug him forward – successfully bringing their bodies that much closer to one another. "What would you like to know?" The Frenchman asked in a silky voice.

"A-Are you kidding?" Kyle said in disbelief; he was trying to keep his mind from the hazy lust induced by Christophe pulling him closer. "You're a total fucking **mystery**. You wouldn't even tell me why you got the shit kicked out of you… and NOW, you're asking me what I'd like to know?" He asked rhetorically; his voice coming out a bit more frazzled than he would have liked it.

The brunette grinned, "But zhat iz part of ze reason you are fascinated by me, oui? … Ze fact zhat you do nut know 'o I am. What I am capable of? What I do, or what I am zhinking?" He mused dreamily. His other free arm moved to snake around Kyle's waist absentmindedly, while his hand still held onto his arm. Kyle felt his cheeks heat up and his breath hitch in his throat as his chest came into contact with Christophe's. "Eet iz nut such a bad zhing… ze desire to 'explore' what iz considered a mysteree…." His voice rumbled from within his chest.

The redhead could feel Christophe's warm breath brushing against his lips with each word he spoke.

"Christophe." A crisp voice interrupted.

Pulling himself away from the Frenchman instantly, Kyle looked up to see a very pissed off blond teen standing halfway between the door, propping it open. The redhead bit his lower lip and sheepishly looked up toward Christophe. The taller brunette hadn't moved, and his eyes looked unimpressed… even a bit annoyed at being interrupted. "Oui?" He answered dully.

"They're about to start the speeches." Gregory said curtly. "You should come back in."

He nodded coolly. "I weel." But the blond teen didn't move; his eyes continued to shift between Kyle and Christophe. The Frenchman, however, kept his cold gaze on Gregory. "In a minute…" He restated, flicking his eyes toward the building in a subtle gesture like he was telling Gregory to go back in first.

The redhead was still avoiding both boys by keeping his eyes on the ground, lamenting over the fact that **a)** Gregory had caught them in a rather compromising position… and **b)** that he'd been SO close to finding out what Christophe DeLorne tasted like. _Probably cigarettes_, Kyle thought begrudgingly to himself after. Maybe he wasn't missing anything.

The blond moved his eyes suspiciously between Kyle and Christophe, before he slowly moved away from the door and let it close as he disappeared back inside.

The redhead let out a discouraged sigh, and was about to try and say something encouraging to Christophe… but to his surprise, the Frenchman grabbed his arm and quickly yanked him back into his arms – crushing his lips against Kyle's. The smaller teen moaned in shock, but as the brunette's lips molded to his own deeply, another more pleasant sound slipped from the back of his throat as his hands came to clutch at the front of Christophe's black jacket.

When their lips parted finally, Kyle opened his hazy green eyes, and found himself staring into intense, deep brown ones. "Meet me in front of ze school… _cinq minutes_." He ordered huskily, slipping back into French.

"B-But…" Kyle said, clearing his throat and trying to get his voice back. His head was still swimming from the unexpected kiss. The alumnus celebration had only been going for about two hours, and there were still more 'speeches' as well as more socializing.

Christophe silenced his protest by capturing the redhead's lips again; his hands cupping either side of Kyle's cheeks, as his fingers dipped behind his neck to keep him there. Kyle found it hard to protest… Christophe was a damned good kisser. And surprisingly, he didn't mind the taste of cigarettes. "You _really_ want to stay 'ere?" The Frenchman purred curiously.

"No." Kyle answered quickly, taking a few deep breaths as his eyes ran over the handsome face in front of him.

Nodding, Christophe gave him a determined look – before disappearing back inside and leaving Kyle alone. It took the redhead a few minutes before his legs would work. He headed around the school, figuring it was easier to just go and wait now… he didn't want to chance running into his parents and explaining why he was leaving with a guy he _barely_ knew. If he was lucky, Shelia Broflovski wouldn't even notice he was missing; she liked schmoozing almost as much as Gregory… especially if it meant promoting her causes and pushing her opinions on others.

Meanwhile, Christophe had slipped back inside – and noticed Gregory was still standing beside the exit door, impatiently awaiting his arrival. He was by his side in less than a minute as the two began to walk back through the crowds. "Why were you talking to _him_?" Gregory asked sharply.

"Zhat iz none of your business." He responded calmly.

He felt Gregory's hand roughly grip his arm. "I believe it IS." His cold British voice sneered.

Stopping, Christophe looked back to Gregory challengingly; it was like a stare down. Christophe wasn't backing down, or showing any weakness, because Gregory didn't intimidate or scare him. Gregory, on the other hand, was determined not to show any weakness… despite feeling incredibly uncomfortable that Christophe had taken such an interest in the redhead. That was TWICE he'd caught them in some kind of embrace. And the blond Brit knew the Frenchman well enough to know when he was hitting on someone; his moves, the way his eyes looked, everything.

"You 'ave some alumni to introduce." Christophe reminded him calmly, flicking his eyes toward the stage.

Gregory narrowed his eyes at the attractive Frenchman – looking back and forth between him and the stage. Finally, he let go of Christophe's arm and moved toward the front; immediately adapting his pleasant 'smile' when he got in front of the microphone, and began to introduce the various honored guests.

Knowing his duties would distract the blond – Christophe continued to move through the crowd, until he was able to slip out of the gym and back into the familiar halls of their high school. He jogged through the corridors effortlessly, before finally reaching the front entrance – pushing back out into the breezy night.

He couldn't help but smirk as he saw Kyle already there, anxiously awaiting his arrival. When he approached him, he didn't slow his pace as he grasped Kyle's hand in his own, and began to lead him toward the parking lot.

"Look, I don't know if this is a good idea." The redhead began nervously. "Gregory seemed really pissed. I don't want to cause any drama… I mean, it's obvious that he cares about you."

Christophe kept his eyes ahead, "Gregoree does nut care about anyzhing BUT 'imself…" He corrected calmly. "And just because 'e _might_ care about me, does nut mean I care about 'im." While the statement was mostly true, Christophe knew there was a time when he HAD cared for Gregory. They were still 'friends' in the loose sense of the word. And yes, despite the abuse and low self-esteem on the blond's behalf, Christophe had stayed loyal to him out of their friendship.

But there was something about this redhead that made Christophe want to continue their interaction. He wanted to know more about him, he wanted to be around him, to watch him, and study him.

Kyle's eyes widened impressively as Christophe stopped them at a 2010 Hyosung motorcycle. It was sleek and black, and he found himself getting embarrassingly turned on as the well-dressed, attractive Frenchman slid onto it. "T-This is yours?" Kyle asked.

"Oui." Christophe answered, looking back to him with an alluring smirk. "…'ave you been on one before?" He asked.

The redhead shook his head, "No, but… I always thought they were…." He began, but found it hard to continue as his eyes drifted over the sight of Christophe on the motorcycle. This guy just continued to get cooler and cooler with each passing moment. He was like some kind of smooth, dashing, world-class thief from a mystery novel that enticed the reader into siding with him, despite the fact that the character was a thief, and probably untrustworthy. But the bad boys were always the most interesting, weren't they?

"Get on." Christophe instructed calmly, motioning his head behind him.

Kyle walked over toward the motorcycle, touching it cautiously with his hand. "Is it safe?" While he knew he probably sounded like a pussy, he'd never BEEN on a motorcycle before… and unfortunately; his mother's tendency to over-worry had passed onto him.

"Don't you trust me?" The Frenchman asked curiously, tilting his head as he looked to Kyle with a smile.

Letting out a shaky breath, Kyle rolled his eyes and slid onto the motorcycle behind Christophe. His hands loosely gripped onto the Frenchman's hips, but once Christophe turned on and revved up the motorcycle – Kyle's arms immediately wrapped tightly around his torso; clutching as if he were about to fall off this doorless deathtrap. Christophe couldn't help but chuckle as he peeled out of the parking lot, going a LOT faster than necessary as he weaved away from the high school, and turned onto the street.

While Kyle was initially scared (especially considering that neither one of them were wearing helmets) he gradually began enjoy the speed. It was one of those adrenaline rushes he figured most 'daredevils' and extreme sportsmen got. His arms simply clutched around Christophe tighter as they rode through the relatively empty streets of South Park. It was a good thing, too, since the Frenchman didn't appear to like slowing down for traffic lights or stop signs. Occasionally, Kyle heard a car horn honk angrily at their speed and reckless driving, but still, it didn't slow them down. He had to admire Christophe's confidence on the bike.

Turning his head to the side, Kyle noticed the houses whizzing by were becoming less and less frequent. Turning his head to the opposite side, he noticed they were speeding toward the outskirts of their town: fields and forestry soon surrounding them. He couldn't help but let out a brief scream of alarm as Christophe suddenly turned the bike – cutting them off into a nearby field. The ride became considerably rougher as they sped through the deep field grasses and over the bumpy, uneven earth.

Finally, the bike came to a halt, and Kyle found himself jerking forward into Christophe's sturdy back as the motorcycle shifted before coming to a complete stop.

"You can let go now," The Frenchman purred with a chuckle. Slowly, Kyle released his arms from around Christophe and slid off the bike. The Frenchman did the same, wincing a bit. "Ze bruises on my bodee will nut 'eal so quicklee now," He mused. "You almost squeezed ze life out of me."

Kyle looked to him with concern, "Fuck, I'm sorry…. I totally forgot ab—"

"I'm kiddeeng." Christophe soothed, giving him a smile. "Eef eet made you feel safe, eet was worth eet." Turning, he began to walk away from his motorcycle toward a nearby tree; it was an odd place for one, considering they were in a field, but there was an old wood fence that bordered its trunk. Kyle figured at one point, it had divided land between two farm owners. Regardless, now it was barely visible in the dark that surrounded them. Feeling a little bit nervous about being out in the middle of nowhere, Kyle quickly caught up with Christophe and joined him at the tree as he sat down against it.

His green eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly enough, but he was still thankful the moon was out – so at least there was some luminous light from above. "Why did you bring us out here?" Kyle asked.

"I come 'ere sometimes," The Frenchman shrugged, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. "Eet iz nice to escape from zhat 'ick town once een a while."

The redhead nodded, "Yeah… that's true." He smiled, glancing over at the sedated looking Frenchman. Pausing, he bit his lower lip – internally debating whether or not to ask the question that had been on his mind since they'd left the high school and ditched the alumni celebration. "Why did you kiss me?" He asked tentatively.

"Deed eet bozher you?" The brunette asked; his dark eyes stayed focused ahead, lazily looking across at the field and his motorcycle parked in the distance.

Kyle frowned, "I just… people don't normally kiss me for no reason." He mumbled. "It's just weird… there has to be a reason you did it." The redhead pressed; his over-active mind couldn't stop analyzing the details of the entire situation. There seemed to be sexual tension between them, but he found the Frenchman so damned vague that he didn't know WHAT to make of him. It was times like this that his intelligence proved to be annoying… Kyle HAD to know the answers to everything. Obsession over the subject of 'Christophe' had already infiltrated his mind, and as much as Kyle hated to admit it, he had found it difficult to go _one_ day without thinking about the brunette in some fashion, since their meeting in the coffee shop.

"Eef you don't like eet… zhen I won't do eet aneemore." He responded calmly, exhaling a streamline of smoke through his lips.

The redhead turned his eyes back to Christophe. "I… I never said I didn't like it," He admitted sheepishly, suddenly feeling a bit bad about bringing it up. Why couldn't he just enjoy those random, unpredictable moments? Why did he have to ruin everything by thinking too much? Part of the reason he was so drawn to Christophe was because he couldn't read him; he didn't know WHAT the teen was going to do, and the brunette seemed so in control and relaxed all of the time. Kyle thought that he (personally) was pretty predictable overall, and he was easy to read. But here was Christophe – who was a complete fucking mystery.

And Kyle figured if he wanted to get to know the Frenchman more… he'd have to try throwing caution to the wind.

Starting now.

With a determined glint in his eye, Kyle shifted and threw his leg over Christophe's lap, straddling the teen where he sat casually against the back of the tree. The Frenchman's head immediately turned to focus on Kyle – and the redhead could swear he saw a brief flash of surprise in his expression. "I don't like being confused." Kyle stated firmly. "I _hate_ not knowing the answers, and I _hate_ not being able to figure something out." His bright green eyes stared intensely into the deep, calm brown ones before him. "I can't figure you out because you won't LET me… and… I don't know where I stand with you." He admitted.

Christophe quickly flicked his cigarette away. Kyle couldn't help but take in a shaky breath as he felt Christophe's hands smoothly running up the front of his thighs as he straddled his hips; gently squeezing at random intervals as his hands moved in a repetitive, soothing motion.

"I zhought ze kiss before would 'ave geeven you a clear idea about where _you_ stand weeth me." Christophe responded calmly.

He stayed perfectly still as he felt Christophe's lips brush against his own lightly. Running his hands up along the Frenchman's chest, Kyle slid his fingers back around the brunette's neck and into his scruffy dark brown hair. He took in a breath, trying to suppress the shudder that began to creep up his spine as Christophe leaned closer to him; tilting his head up toward Kyle's mouth. The redhead was a bit higher than him now, since he was straddling his hips. He let out a small, almost inaudible moan as their lips brushed together. The redhead blushed instantly when he heard Christophe softly chuckle in response to it.

Kyle was about to bitch at him for being an asshole, when the Frenchman finally captured his lips in another slow, deep kiss. This time, the redhead made no attempt to hide his moan as it slipped from the back of his throat, only to be swallowed by the passionate mouth of the brunette. He felt Christophe's arms snake around his waist tighter, pulling them closer together.

* * *

When Christophe opened his eyes the next morning, he found that he was surrounded by the peaceful sounds of nature. The two teens were still out in the middle of a field outside of town; Christophe's back was still up against the tree, and Kyle was still in his lap. The redhead's legs were still straddling his hips, but he was curled up against the Frechman's chest comfortably asleep.

He hadn't remembered falling asleep… and to be honest, Christophe was a bit surprised they hadn't fucked. The brunette was certainly willing – and had kind of expected that after his whole 'man of mystery' act, Kyle would do whatever the hell he wanted. Besides, he really liked sex. Or, rather, he USED to... Gregory had ruined aspects of his sex drive, but slowly, he was finding those desires returning the closer he got to Kyle. He could only imagine how satisfying it would be to make the defiant, fiery redhead call out his name in passionate desperation.

Instead, here they were... waking up innocently clutched to one another.

It made him smirk. Leaning his head down, he nestled his nose and lips into the comforting scent of the redhead's soft curls. Maybe it wasn't so bad. After all, his own life was so full of darkness and isolation… it was kind of pleasant to have a unique and tender moment with someone he was genuinely interested in. "Wake up, _mon petit chatte_." He purred, reaching his hand up and petting the back of Kyle's head.

Slowly, the redhead came to and sat up; rubbing his eyes wearily as he looked around him.

"Shit, man." He mumbled, sighing with a groan. "I'm going to be in so much fucking trouble…" Kyle said.

Christophe smirked, reaching into his inside jacket pocket before pulling out a cigarette. Lighting it, the cancer stick dangled loosely between his lips as he shrugged. "Per'aps eef I speak with your mozher, I can soften ze sheetstorm?" He mused.

"Are you kidding?" Kyle scoffed. "She would DESTROY you." He said matter-of-factly.

The Frenchman grinned. "I do nut zhink so. I can be ver'ee charmeeng… or 'ave you already forgotten?" He purred, brushing his lips against Kyle's jaw line. The redhead sighed, leaning in to the touch and warmth Christophe was providing. He was a bit surprised that he was STILL straddling the Frenchman's lap, and had fallen asleep like that. Granted, his legs were all fuzzy, perhaps from a lack of comfortable circulation.

"As much as I like waking up in a peaceful field on top of a cocky Frenchman… we need to go back." Kyle chuckled. Grasping Christophe's shoulders, he pushed himself up onto his wobbly legs, and took a few steps toward the motorcycle, stretching. The brunette followed, yawning and scruffing the back of his head as he followed the sleepy redhead back toward the bike.

Slipping back on, he took a brief moment to enjoy Kyle's arms coming to wrap comfortably around his torso again as he sat behind him. Smirking to himself, with his cigarette still pressed between his lips – Christophe started the motorcycle, and slowly drove them out of the field and back onto the road. His driving was more subdued this time around… there was no need to rush, and considering how early it was in the morning, there was very little traffic anywhere around the town.

When they got to Kyle's house, Gerald and Shelia Broflovski – who both seemed incredibly agitated at their son for disappearing for the whole night without a phone call, met them out front. But true to his word, Christophe eased the tension. Kyle could only watch in awe as the smooth Frenchman charmed his mother and father out of their anger. He spoke for a little while with Gerald – who was incredibly impressed by Christophe's motorcycle… and Shelia, like everyone else, was eventually swayed by the brunette's good looks, smooth voice and subtle, playful flirtations.

It's like he could charm anyone in to doing, or believing, anything he wanted. Eventually, the Broflovski's disappeared back inside with a pleasant goodbye to Kyle's 'new friend'. Turning back to Christophe, Kyle shook his head, "That was impressive… god, my parents love you more than they love me." He scoffed.

"Ah," Christophe chuckled with a shrug. "But you are off ze 'ook now, oui?" He smiled, moving back over to his motorcycle. Swinging his leg over, he sat back comfortably on the bike before looking back to the redhead. "Well… zhis was fun." The brunette mused.

Kyle smiled and nodded, "Yeah… actually, it was." He admitted. The night hadn't exactly ended the way he'd expected – but thinking back on it, he HAD enjoyed himself. Walking toward the motorcycle, Kyle stood beside it; glancing anxiously behind him to make sure his parents were in the house, before he leaned in and kissed Christophe quickly. He meant it to be a simple peck on the lips, but the Frenchman's arm quickly wrapped around his waist, and kept him close for a longer one.

Feeling his head getting dizzy again as Christophe slipped his tongue into Kyle's mouth, the redhead pulled back with a groan. "Piss off." He mumbled with an annoyed, embarrassed smirk.

"You started eet." Christophe purred with a cheeky grin.

Letting Kyle go, he started his motorcycle up and tossed the redhead a warm gaze, before he nodded and pulled out of their driveway. Kyle couldn't help but watch the Frenchman disappear down the street and out of sight.

* * *

He'd watched them arrive; he had watched them talk with Kyle's parents, and he'd watched the two kiss before Christophe finally took off. The redhead turned and headed back inside his house with a slight bounce to his step.

Needless to say, at this point, Gregory's blood was almost boiling.

He was sitting in his car, parked across the street from Kyle's house a few houses down. After the alumni celebration, he had sought out the Frenchman – and was devastated when he saw his motorcycle was gone. But devastation turned to jealous rage when he realized the interfering redhead was ALSO missing. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together.

So he'd found out WHERE Kyle lived, and decided to wait patiently for him to go home. He knew the redhead HAD to return at some point… he was just a little shocked that it was the next morning. Did they sleep together? Where had they gone?

Turning on his ignition, Gregory finally pulled away from the curb and began to drive back home. He could fix this. He WOULD fix this. He wasn't going to lose Christophe to some brainy redheaded Jew….


	5. Deeper and Deeper

**Disclaimer:** I don't own South Park, or the characters in this story. I simply wrote out the scenario in pure boredom. XD… like all of my other stories lol

**Pairing: **Christophe/Kyle, Christophe/Gregory

**Summary: **In his last year of high school, Christophe comes to realize he's had just about enough of Gregory's pretentious abuse. But oddly enough, a gentle redhead ends up being there to help him heal his wounds.

**Notes I: **I can't stay away from Kyle/Christophe lol I love them both too much

**Notes II :** WOOT … all the usual; smut, fluff, romance, angst, hurt, friendship, etc.

**Notes III:** This will mostly be rated **T**, though occasionally there might be some **M** for violence/sex.

* * *

School was a bit disheartening. Kyle had come to school hoping to see Christophe a bit more… unfortunately, their social groups still separated them. Whenever he happened to see the French brunette, he was with his friends – and didn't really want to venture away from them to go to Christophe. Kyle didn't feel like explaining to his friends WHY he was going to hang out with the loner. It's not that he didn't trust them; Kenny and Stan had been nothing but supportive of his decision to come 'out'. But that being said, they were still his friends, and he didn't feel like being bombarded by questions – nevermind the teasing he'd probably have to endure, and the 'French' jokes that would follow.

Besides, he wasn't even sure WHAT his relationship with Christophe could be classified as. Kyle still didn't know a lot of about the attractive Frenchman; they had shared some rather deep kisses, true, but he also knew Christophe had some weird connection to Gregory. And that British blond did NOT seem to like Kyle at all. It actually kind of bothered the redhead; he always felt like Gregory was glaring at him.

All in all, Kyle had to debate if he wanted risk getting in the middle of them.

While he was heading to his third period of the day, the redhead finally caught sight of the Frenchman. He was sitting in the cafeteria forum, alone at a table, reading a rather beat-up looking book. For some reason, the mere sight of Christophe reading made Kyle anxious… and a bit turned on. Go figure; a nerd gets turned on by reading. Glancing around, he was relieved to see there weren't many people around – since everyone else had headed to class. Normally, the redheaded Jew was all about punctuality… but damn, he'd been thinking about Christophe for the past few days. Now was his chance to talk to him.

"Hey." Kyle greeted gently as he sat down at the table with Christophe.

The brunette slowly looked up; as his deep brown eyes settled on the redhead, a small smile grew on his lips. "Bonjour." He greeted.

"Skipping a class?" Kyle asked with a teasing tone.

Christophe gave him a calm smile in return, "Non. I 'ave a free pereeod zhis time." He explained with a shrug. Closing his book, the Frenchman began to put it back into his messenger bag – when he noticed Kyle was looking at it curiously. "Eet iz a book of French poetry… eet iz razher old." He mumbled, stuffing the book out of sight.

"Oh." Kyle nodded; it was hard to keep his eyes off the Frenchman. Fuck; an old, worn-out book of French poetry? He could only assume it was so worn out because Christophe read it so many times. Kyle had books like that himself. But for some reason, it only made him more enamored with the mysterious brunette. "Maybe sometime you can read me some." Kyle smiled.

Pulling his deep eyes back to Kyle, Christophe smirked as he relaxed in his seat. "Oui… maybe." He responded simply. There were a few moments of silence that passed between them. Christophe was just staring at Kyle, and for some reason, it made the normally talkative, confident redhead feel a bit exposed and awkward.

"Um," Kyle cleared his throat. "How is your day so far?" He asked, immediately knowing it was a lame question. He'd been waiting all day to find a moment alone with Christophe… and now that he HAD it – Kyle found himself at a loss of what to say. _'Smooth,'_ He thought bitterly to himself.

Christophe kept his eyes focused on Kyle, "…Shouldn't you be geteeng to class?" The Frenchman asked casually, flicking his eyes to the now quiet, empty halls that lay outside the cafeteria doors.

Kyle was a bit taken back by the shift in conversation; so either Christophe didn't want to answer how his day was, or he was trying to get rid of him. And for whatever reason, Kyle had the impression it was the latter; the Frenchman seemed to move in his seat – glancing around, seemingly uncomfortable with being exposed and alone in the cafeteria with Kyle.

"Yeah, you're right, I _should_ be." Kyle mumbled bitterly as he stood up. "Sorry for touching base. I haven't seen you in a few days, and when I finally get a moment to talk to you – it seems like it's an inconvenience." He snapped bitterly. He knew he probably sounded like some PMSing girl… but he didn't care.

Christophe visibly tensed a bit, but watched the redhead calmly as he turned and stormed off after giving the Frenchman one last, disappointed glare. As Kyle headed out of the cafeteria and back into the halls, he was fuming. What the hell? He was getting mixed signals all over the place from this guy, and it frustrated him to no end. He couldn't believe that quiet and removed Christophe was the SAME Christophe who had whisked him away the other night, and kissed him so passionately. Was he embarrassed to be around Kyle? Did he not want to be seen?

"Fuck it," The redhead muttered to himself out loud. "I don't need some stupid f—HEY!" He exclaimed, suddenly alarmed when two hands wrapped around his arms and pulled him into the nearest washroom. As he was pressed up against the closest wall, Kyle's eyes widened as he saw Christophe standing in front of him with a cheeky grin. "Christophe, what the fuck?" He hissed, his cheeks flushing with a deep blush. "You scared the shit out of me."

The brunette smiled and placed one arm up and rested it against the wall, bordering Kyle where he stood. The other slid up and gripped his thigh, tugging them closer together. "I am soree, _mon petite chatte_… but… I deed nut zhink eet would be a good idea for uz to get TOO friendlee in ze cafeteria." He explained in a low, sultry voice. "Zhis iz steel new, ah? We should be careful for now. I do nut want you to get 'urt." He purred, brushing his lips against the shorter redhead's.

"Oh…" Kyle answered, swallowing slowly as he enjoyed their closeness. Moving his hands, he slid them up Christophe's toned arms until they came to drape across his shoulders and neck. "W-Well… who would hurt me? I mean, I think most people are ok with, uh… my… 'life choice'…?" Kyle shrugged.

Christophe smirked and leaned down – capturing the redhead's lips in a deep kiss, before he pulled back to answer his question; "Eet iz nut ozher people I am wor'eed about." The brunette began to explain as he moved his arms to wrap around Kyle's slender torso. "I need to speak with Gregoree." Hearing the name made Kyle tense a bit, but Christophe soothed him by nestling his nose against the redhead's. "Az far az 'e iz concerned… I belong to 'im. Gregoree 'as a lut of… self-esteem issues?" The Frenchman began to explain. "I 'ave been filling ze role of iz 'companion' for a few years now. 'E gets a beet jealous when I take an interest in anee'one else."

"Are you kidding?" Kyle said, furrowing his brows in anger. "That's none of HIS business!" He spat. "You're not dating and you're not married, so fuck him _and_ his self-esteem. You can't let him treat you like that… I mean - you just ALLOW him fuck you up? I don't get it!" Kyle huffed jealously. "Why do you let him!"

But Kyle's protests were silenced as Christophe placed two fingers beneath his chin, and tilted his head up to look at him. "I 'ave my own reasons, Kyel." He muttered gently. "My 'istoree with Gregoree is long and… complicated. I cannut just leave 'im so coldly. Ozherwise ze results may be… violent… and irrational." The brunette said; his eyes looked over Kyle protectively. "And I am nut prepared to 'ave 'im take out 'iz anger on you."

Letting a long sigh pass from his lips, Kyle's anger began to subside. He knew Christophe was right; he didn't really know Gregory too well, but from their brief interactions, he could tell that Gregory was a guy who got what he wanted… by force, if necessary. "So…" Kyle said, enjoying the feeling of Christophe's thumb stroking his cheek, while his other hand traced a random pattern on his lower back. "We have to keep this a secret then?" He asked with a mild sulk.

"Oui." Christophe nodded sadly. "At leest for now." He soothed. Leaning down, he caught Kyle's lips in another deep kiss; his arms wrapped around the redhead, pulling them closer together as it intensified. Finally breaking away, the two stared at each other lustfully, "But zhat just means we weel need to make ze _most_ of our time alone, ah?" He purred huskily.

Kyle smirked. "I guess so." He agreed, taking in a deep breath. "Do you want to come over tonight?" The redhead asked, glancing behind Christophe toward the bathroom door - still somewhat on alert, in case someone came in.

"…'Ow about you come ovare to my apartment instead?" Christophe suggested mildly. "Forgeeve me, but… I do nut enjoy 'aving to sneak around your mozher." He smirked.

The redhead rolled his eyes. "Fine." He mumbled. "I'll just tell her I'm staying over at Stan's house, or something." He said, figuring Stan would cover for him in case his mother HAPPENED to call over. But Kyle thought she was past that stage now. He was eighteen for fucksake.

"Eet eez settled, zhen." Christophe nodded, placing a few kisses along Kyle's neck, before he pulled away. "I weel meet you after school, oui?"

Kyle nodded and the two reluctantly parted from one another - and not a moment too soon, it seemed. Within a few seconds, the door to the bathroom burst open, and Craig marched in – dragging a reluctant and twitching Tweek behind him.

"Dammit. Someone's in here." Craig cursed to himself, looking annoyed.

Tweek flinched, "G-Good! We shouldn't do this, man! GAH! We'll get in trouble!" He exclaimed; tugging on his blond hair with his free hand, while his other was entwined with Craig's.

"Please… eet iz all yours." Christophe smirked. "We were juzt leeving."

The corner of Craig's mouth turned up into a half smile. "Perfect."

"Arg! N-No! W-We shouldn't! This is WAY too much PRESSURE!" Tweek stammered as Craig tugged him further into the bathroom. "I don't –nngh- even WANT a blowjob!" He shrieked.

Craig ignored the refusal. "Yes you do."

Kyle couldn't help but suppress a laugh as he and Christophe slipped out of the empty bathroom to leave them alone. Tweek would no doubt be singing a different tune when Craig proceeded with said-blowjob.

"Zo, seence you are already late for class," Christophe began, slipping his hand into Kyle's as they moved through the empty hallways; passing full classrooms of bored students. "…'ow about we go outside?"

While Kyle wasn't normally one for skipping class, his heart seemed to be winning over his mind… especially when Christophe had taken his hand. "Sure." He agreed. "But… let's go now. I don't wanna get in trouble for skipping."

Christophe couldn't help but chuckle again; Kyle, apparently, had a recurring phobia about 'getting caught' – whether it was by his mother, his friends, or some kind of authority figure.

"Eef I can charm your crazee mozher out of 'er anger, I can charm a stupeed teacher out of a detenzion." He mumbled with a smirk.

Leading Kyle outside, the two headed around the side of the school, and found a rather secluded spot to sit against the wall. Crossing his legs and resting his back against the brick wall of the school – Christophe tugged the redhead down to sit in his lap. Kyle squirmed a bit, seemingly a bit uncomfortable at first. But once the Frenchman wrapped his arms around him and nestled his nose into the back of his soft hair, Kyle let out a long breath and sunk back into the secure embrace of the brunette.

Kyle tilted his head and smiled as he looked at Christophe. "Aren't you going to have a cigarette?" He asked. It was rare to see the Frenchman venture outside without lighting up a cancer stick within the span of a few seconds.

"I was zhinkeeng you could smoke for me." He mused playfully, digging his cigarette pack out of his pocket. Plucking one out, he placed the end into Kyle's lips and lit it – before he shoved the pack back into black jeans again. Kyle inhaled and then removed the cigarette from his lips… but before he could exhale, Christophe grasped the back of Kyle's head, and pushed their lips together in a kiss. Kyle moaned, and in doing so, released the smoke he'd held into the Frenchman's mouth – as he inhaled.

Pulling back from the kiss, Kyle watched as Christophe exhaled the smoke he'd inhaled from his mouth with a playful smirk. "Eet tastes bettare comeeng from you…" He purred as one of his hands rubbed his thigh, while the other arm stayed wrapped around the teen in his lap.

"How charming."

Christophe tensed when he heard the familiar, pretentious voice of Gregory. Turning his head, he saw the British blond approaching them with a cocky swagger.

"It's very 'fortunate' that you both have a spare period at the same time, hm?" He shrugged, focusing his accusing eyes more on Kyle. "Since I know an honor student would NEVER be foolish enough to skip a class to go smoke with an anti-social Frenchman." Gregory smirked.

Kyle glanced to the side awkwardly, before he tried to move. "Yeah…" He mumbled, clearly not happy about being 'lightly' threatened to go to class. But Christophe's arms tightened around Kyle, and he kept him seated in his lap.

"Eet eez fortunate." He answered confidently. Leaning forward, Christophe made a small show of brushing his lips against Kyle's jaw line. "…'Ow can we 'elp ze ztudent counceel president?" He asked; insinuating in a harsher tone that Gregory was clearly interrupting.

Gregory stiffened a bit, but retained his composure. "I merely saw you over here, and figured I would extend a greeting. It's only polite." He answered – focusing his intense brown eyes on Christophe. "But I do have some matters I'd like to discuss with you. Perhaps we can speak tonight."

"I am workeeng tonight." Christophe responded; his tone a bit more gravelly than it was previously. Gregory's presence was obviously irritating the Frenchman – Kyle could see it in his eyes, and the tension was spreading through his body. "Per'aps anozher time."

The two seemed to have a bit of a staring contest, before Gregory finally nodded. "As you wish." He answered in a tight-lipped manner. "I hope you BOTH enjoy your spare period." He oozed smugly, before heading back into the school. Both teens sat in silence for a few moments, before Christophe's hands slid from around Kyle, and rubbed his thighs as he sat in his lap.

"I want you to promise me somezhing," The brunette began, obviously trying to suppress any agitation he'd been feeling with Gregory's untimely interruption. "Eef you see Gregoree comeeng toward you… I want you to walk away."

Kyle raised a brow. "Seriously?" He asked with an awkward smile. He looked back toward the door that the blond had disappeared through. "He didn't seem THAT tough. I could take him." Kyle grinned teasingly.

But Christophe grasped the redhead's chin, and forced him to look back into his firm, brown eyes. "You do nut know what 'e iz capable of." He warned in a firm tone. "I mean eet." The brunette repeated. "Eef you find yourzelf alone weeth 'im… get out of zhere… and walk away."

The severity and weight of the Frenchman's words worried Kyle. Was Gregory really that bad? He didn't look like he would do much better in a fight than him – or maybe Kenny. They were all roughly the same size. Then again, as Kyle recalled, Christophe had shown up with some nasty wounds on two separate occasions. And clearly, his suspicions that Gregory had inflicted them were correct.

"Promeese." Christophe repeated – bringing Kyle out of his thoughts.

The redhead nodded. "Ok… I promise." He reassured him.

* * *

As he heard Christophe busying himself in his kitchen, Kyle took the time to study the photos that were scattered around his small tables and hung crookedly on his wall. They'd come back to Christophe's apartment after school, and had hung out for most of the afternoon before the Frenchman started to make him dinner.

As corny as it sounded, Kyle was kind of excited that someone was making dinner for him. No one ever had, except for his mother (but that never counted… it was her job to do stuff like that, right?).

Holding a wine glass in hand, Kyle sipped on the white chardonnay. Most of his friends only drank beer (despite the fact they were in high school, but it was common to underage drink in a place like South Park) – so he welcomed the change of wine. Apparently, Christophe wasn't a big fan of beer, and thought 'wine' was a more sophisticated choice.

"I like your life." Kyle commented aloud, his eyes still running over Christophe's photos.

He heard a soft chuckle from the kitchen. "Well… eet iz mine, and you can't 'ave eet." He responded calmly.

Kyle laughed and turned to make his way back to the kitchen. Leaning against the doorway, the redhead watched as the Frenchman stirred a sauce he was making with great ease and precision. Christophe had a cigarette dangling out of his lips, smoking casually as he cooked; with his slightly gruff appearance (and smoking a cigarette) he certainly didn't appear to be the 'cooking' type. But that was just another new fact that painted the mysterious picture that made up Christophe DeLorne. At least, to Kyle.

Taking another drink of wine, Kyle's eyes shifted around the room again. "So, your mom just got you this place?"

"Oui." He answered, sparing a glance to Kyle, before he continued cooking. "Ze woman set me up 'ere… an' moved back to France." The brunette explained, "Zo, when I graduate… I weel join 'er zhere."

Kyle nodded; he wasn't really happy about the idea of Christophe leaving him alone in South Park once they graduated… but he couldn't be that selfish, right? They weren't dating. At least, they weren't 'technically' dating… and if they were, Christophe hadn't alerted him yet. "And… I assume she taught you to cook as well?" He smirked teasingly.

"Ah, I am French, mon amour…" Christophe grinned cockily as he looked back to the redhead. "Eet iz een my blood." Stirring the sauce again, he motioned with his head for Kyle to come forward. "Would you like to taste eet?"

Downing another gulp of wine, Kyle nodded and came forward to stand beside the Frenchman. Whatever he was cooking smelled great; it was some kind of seafood pasta, and while Kyle couldn't really cook much himself… he had to admire the Frenchman's skill. He was normally a picky eater, but damn, whatever this was looked delicious. Lifting up a spoon, Christophe blew on the sauce gently, before he held it up to Kyle's lips. The redhead smiled and tasted it. "Damn." He groaned. "That's delicious. That's like… sex in food form."

"Huh." Christophe mumbled, curiously looking at what he was making, then back to Kyle. "Obviouslee… you 'ave nut 'ad veree exciteeng zex." He mused. Leaning forward, his lips grazed against Kyle's ear. "We weel 'ave to change zhat, oui?" He purred, before he passed by the redhead casually and continued to get dinner ready.

Kyle swallowed deeply, feeling that familiar heat rush to his cheeks. "I-I've had exciting sex." He defended awkwardly, drinking the rest of his wine to calm his nerves.

"Ah, mon petit chatte…" Christophe chuckled, cutting some pieces off the baguette. "Zhere is zex… and zhen… zhere is zex weeth ME." He said with a sly smirk; his cigarette bobbing with each word he spoke.

He tried to push away any butterflies that were forming in his stomach. "You're so full of yourself, it's almost disgusting." Kyle scoffed, shaking his head before he poured himself more wine. "You have about as much credibility as I do, saying: I am the best lay in South Park."

"Well zhen," Christophe shrugged. "Eet should be an eenteresing night. I am lookeeng forward to eet." He said, casually glancing at Kyle.

Kyle swallowed nervously again, before he rolled his eyes. "Yeah whatever." He muttered, not really sure how else to respond. Was he excited? Well… yes. Christophe was still a mystery to him, and he seemed to be completely honest with his sexual desires. But that in ITSELF confused Kyle, because he wasn't used to someone (or anyone) so blatantly hitting on him.

Did this mean they WERE going out? Or did Christophe just consider this a booty-call? Maybe this guy was just horny. Or maybe he and Gregory were just in a fight, and the Frenchman was using HIM to get his British boyfriend jealous.

"What are you zhinkeeng about?" A husky voice asked against his lips.

Kyle looked up, startled to see that Christophe had moved to stand in front of him; his cigarette was gone, and his arms grasping the counter on either side of Kyle's waist – thereby trapping him against the counter. "I… well, nothing…" The redhead blushed. "Just… wondering how this is all going to play out." He admitted with an anxious sigh.

"Eet iz fascinateeng… 'ow your brain treeks you eento zhinking zhat somezhing you WANT is a meestake." Christophe smirked. "Iz eet so 'ard to just live in ze moment?"

The redhead looked up to the taller brunette tentatively. "Well… no." He shrugged. "I guess I'm just expecting to be labeled a fuck buddy… or something." Kyle continued, lowering his eyes. "It's not that I don't TRUST you, I… just… I dunno."

He felt Christophe place a finger beneath his chin, successfully lifting his eyes back up to look into his deep brown ones.

"I am nut like zhat." He reassured him calmly. "Eef I was… zhen I would 'ave slept weeth McCormeek, Tuckare, and zhat twitchy blond." He said.

Kyle's mouth dropped open a bit. "Are you serious?" He gaped. "Kenny, Craig AND Tweek have come onto you?" He asked in disbelief.

"Oui." He shrugged. "I am a lot more… eh… 'selecteeve' zhen I look." He smirked, brushing his lips softly against Kyle's cheek – before he headed back toward the pans where he was preparing the food.

He couldn't believe it; the redhead watched him with a small smile. If Christophe wanted a one-night stand – he could have easily slept with Kenny… though it was hard to believe TWEEK had ever hit on Christophe, but he could certainly see Craig doing it. Whether it was BEFORE or AFTER Tweek and Craig had gotten together, Kyle didn't know – and he didn't really WANT to know, either. Regardless, it gave Kyle a small boost of confidence to know that Christophe was interested in him.

At least, he thought he was?

Wait?

Did his answer actually CLARIFY that the Frenchman liked him?

_Fuck_ … Kyle thought to himself.

"Are we dating?" He blurted out.

Christophe quirked a brow and looked over to the redhead slowly - whose face was almost matching his hair with the sudden outburst. There was an awkward moment of silence, before Christophe answered; "Iz zhat what iz bozhering you?" He asked, with a mildly confused expression.

"Yes." Kyle huffed. "It is. I'm sorry, but it is." He spoke quickly. "I have to know, Christophe – it's just who I am. I like this mysterious stuff, but I ALSO like closure. You just need to tell me."

The brunette shook his head, "You Amereecans are zo… confuseeng." He chuckled. "Ze words are zo important? You cannut just go weeth ze moments? Ze actions, ze feelings?" He asked. "Words are ze worst zhing." He finished.

"Christophe." Kyle said, his voice a bit more vulnerable than he would have liked it to be.

The Frenchman looked over to him again and sighed. Abandoning his cooking, yet again, he moved to stand over in front of the redhead and cupped his face in his hands. "Kyel Broflovskee… weel you go out weeth me?" He asked in a semi-dramatic voice, smirking a bit.

"Well you don't have to be a dick about it." He groaned, rolling his eyes as he blushed. "A simple 'yes' would have been fine."

Christophe tilted his head, "I am just tryeeng to geeve you 'closure'…" He shrugged, trailing his hands down Kyle's body to rub his slender hips. "Eef zhat iz what you want."

"Shut up." Kyle grumbled, burying his face into the crook of Christophe's neck; obviously a bit embarrassed about being so trivial about making their 'dating' official. When his more 'intelligent' side kicked in, Kyle realized he must have sounded kind of stupid. Was he that self conscious that he needed to HEAR those words? Well, Kyle hadn't initially THOUGHT he was… but maybe it was because of Christophe. He still didn't understand why such a good-looking, European teen would be interested in someone like him. Maybe he was just scared at Christophe would realize he could do better, and ditch him after getting his hopes up.

He sighed when he felt Christophe running his fingers through his loose, red curls. "Are you 'ungree?" He heard the Frenchman's voice rumble in his chest as his ear pressed against it.

"Starving." Kyle nodded, moving away from the Frenchman's warm body.

Christophe nodded to him with a small smile. "Zhen pour me some wine like a good leetle beetch." He teased, smacking Kyle on the ass. "I weel bring everyzhing else."

"Fuck you." Kyle said, rolling his eyes as he laughed and grabbed the bottle of wine. Heading toward the small kitchen table situated in Christophe's apartment – he poured them some more wine, before he set them two plates. "You don't just wanna eat in front of the television or something?" Kyle asked. "I feel like an old married couple setting this up." He chuckled.

The Frenchman groaned, "Ah, you Amereecans are zo uncultured." He scoffed playfully. "Where eez your romance, ah?" He asked.

"Ok, ok, Jesus." Kyle smirked. Heading back into the kitchen, he grabbed the bread Christophe had cut up and put it on the table. When Christophe came back out, he set down a large bowl of pasta – which immediately made Kyle's mouth water. It smelled so damn good. "If this tastes as good as it smells, you'll have to give me some cooking lessons sometime."

The brunette grinned as they took their seats. "Zhat would nut be a veree good idea. Ze smoke alarm would be goeeng off constantlee… eet would be too 'hot' for you to 'andle."

"That's the dumbest innuendo you've ever spouted." Kyle shook his head. "I'd even go so far as to call it lame."

Christophe quirked a brow; "I cook you dinnare and zhis iz 'ow you repay me?" He asked, mocking a slightly hurt expression.

Kyle leaned over beside him to where Christophe was sitting, craning his neck a bit so their lips could meet in a brief kiss.

"I'll repay you after dinner." He blushed. "I'll take care of desert."

The Frenchman chuckled; "NOW 'o iz makeeng lame, zexual innuendos, ah?" He teased.

The two began to eat together, chatting lightly – occasionally sharing more 'subtle' sexual innuendos amidst their conversation. As they drank wine and finished up their meal, those innuendos became more blatant – as did the brief, affectionate touches that happened atop and beneath the table. By the time their plates were clean, the two had shifted their seats around, and were sitting quite close. Christophe was mumbling sexual French slang into Kyle's ear as they drank wine; both feeling more relaxed and a bit more rambunxious. It was no secret that the brunette had been thinking about having the redhead all to himself ever since they'd ditched out on that alumni celebration a week or so ago. They'd fallen asleep together in the field – and much to Christophe's surprise – hadn't done anything except make out.

Kyle, while happy to take things slow, couldn't deny he was a bit eager to get closer to the alluring Frenchman. And he was feeling just tipsy enough to go with the flow – like Christophe told him he should. He felt safe with the teen… and he didn't get the sense that Christophe was using him, or would intentionally hurt him.

The redhead bit his lower lip gently, suppressing a moan as he felt Christophe's lips beginning to softly graze the shell of his ear while he huskily spoke in French. Kyle didn't understand a word - but it was a beautiful language… and he could only imagine that Christophe was saying something dirty. Slowly, his lips traveled down along his cheek and jaw, before lapping his tongue warmly against the beating pulse in Kyle's neck. This time, he couldn't suppress the moan that traveled up from the back of his throat. He rested his hands on Christophe's arms as the Frenchman's hands slid up and around his thighs; rubbing and caressing his hips while his lips continued to shower his neck and jaw with heated affection.

Unfortunately, the two were not able to get far…

'Knock Knock'

Christophe growled - letting out an annoyed breath before he left Kyle and headed over to the door. Swinging it open and expecting it to be his landlord, he was a bit surprised to see Gregory.

But that 'surprised' feeling quickly became anger.

"Christophe." The British teen greeted.

The Frenchman didn't exactly extend the courtesy; he stood square in the door and looked down at the slightly shorter blond. "What?" He asked impatiently.

"I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by." He shrugged casually - his eyes flicking past Christophe to see Kyle sitting at the table. "Ah… am I interrupting?" He asked in a mocking, breathy tone.

Christophe glared at him. "_Oui… partir maintenant_." He ordered darkly.

"Is that any way to treat a guest?" Gregory smirked. Sniffing the air a few times, he moved his eyes back to meet the brunette's. "Your 'infamous' pasta, hm? … It's been a while since you've cooked that for me."

The Frenchman didn't say anything. "It still smells wonderful…" Gregory purred, taking a step forward toward the inside of the apartment.

But Christophe's arm immediately shot up – pressing against the opposite side of the doorframe, thereby creating a physical barrier to stop Gregory from entering his apartment.

"Mhm." The British teen murmured bemusedly as he took a step back from the hostile Frenchman. "Clearly, you aren't in the mood to entertain more than one houseguest this evening." He smirked.

Christophe narrowed his eyes. "_Bonne nuit_." He said impatiently, before shutting the door and locking it in Gregory's face.

Running a hand through his scruffy dark brown hair, Christophe let out a long, weary sigh. Fuck. That whole exchange had just made him tense… and he'd been having such a good time, too. He wasn't thinking about Gregory – he'd only been focused on getting into the redhead's pants (as uncharming as it sounded). Now he was agitated and felt on guard.

He kept his head down a bit as he stood, facing the door and scowling, lost in his thoughts. But the feeling of gentle hands sliding around his waist, accompanied by arms wrapping around him caused Christophe to exhale slowly. "Do you want me to go?" Kyle asked.

The Frenchman lifted his head a bit, still staring at the door. Huh. If their positions had been reversed, and GREGORY had been with him… the blond would have bombarded him with questions. Not to mention, he never would have 'offered' to leave Christophe alone; he would have insisted to stay and continue. But once more, Kyle was proving to be far less dependent and more self-assured than Gregory. The redhead was content enough to ask Christophe what HE wanted to do, and seemed like he would understand if the brunette told him he DID want to be alone.

"Non." Christophe answered, turning and cupping Kyle's face in his rough hands gently; the redhead kept his arms wrapped around the brunette's waist. Looking down into those concerned, bright green eyes, Christophe slowly felt his tension melting – and a small smile returning to the corners of his lips. Tilting his head down, he pressed his lips to Kyle's in a tender kiss… that gradually became deeper once both boys began to get a taste for the other.

When he felt Kyle's hands tugging at the bottom of his black shirt, Christophe obliged and lifted his arms up – allowing the redhead to smoothly pull the garment over his head, before tossing it aside. Pulling Kyle close to him again, the slightly shorter teen moaned as his hands explored Christophe smooth, toned chest and shoulders. Kyle inhaled sharply as he felt the Frenchman's hands wander down to his ass; pulling him closer and squeezing. But his 'gasp' only gave Christophe more access to him. Kyle soon found their tongues swirling together hungrily in his mouth.

Kyle felt himself being pushed backward, through the den – back down the hall, and finally into a room - both teens stumbling onto the double bed. By this point, Gregory had been forgotten by both Christophe and Kyle, and they were panting heavily and trying to remove more of their clothing as quickly as possible. When the redhead's shirt was off, Christophe kissed and licked his way down the teen's smooth, slender chest before he reached the front of his jeans. His normally calm hands fumbled with the front of Kyle's pants before he tugged them down roughly.

He was about to say something to Christophe – when he felt the teen's mouth nibbling and licking the bulge hiding beneath the fabric of his boxers. "Ungh! Ah-hah… C-Chris…" Kyle moaned; lulling his head back as the Frenchman lightly bit the erection concealed in his boxers - licking him through the fabric while his hands explored around his thighs.

While he liked being in control, Christophe was finding it hard to remain that way. He was getting too eager, and too desperate to pleasure the redhead AND himself. This was so different. Sex had become so mundane, and not even REMOTELY special – thanks to Gregory and his 'soldier' play. But this was exciting; this was mutual and passionate. For once, Christophe actually WANTED to fuck someone.

Christophe was distracted from his primal urges when Kyle's hands threaded into his hair and roughly tugged his head up to meet his own in a heated, sloppy kiss. Kyle's tongue desperately tangled with the Frenchman as he fumbled with his jeans. Christophe did the same and finally rid the redhead of his jeans, before kicking his own off alongside them.

"I… need a condom…" Christophe groaned as Kyle slipped a hand into his boxers and begun jacking his already pulsing erection.

Kyle bit the Frenchman's lower lip between his teeth, "F-Fuck the condom," He breathed. "Just… fuck me…" He begged intensely.

Without needing any more incentive, Christophe roughly pushed Kyle back onto the bed with such force that Kyle actually gasped in surprise. But that surprise was quickly overtaken by desire as the brunette tugged off his boxers, before ridding Kyle of his…

* * *

Turning off his motorcycle, Christophe felt Kyle's arms slip from around him as he got off the sleek cycle. The Frenchman couldn't help but smirk as Kyle took off his helmet.

"You look like ze nerd you are." He teased.

Kyle rolled his eyes and put the helmet back on the end of the bike. "Fuck you. I don't want to get my head split open when I fly off the bike with your sharp turns and reckless driving." He scolded.

Christophe chuckled and slid off his motorcycle, slipping his messenger-bag over his shoulder, before he adjusted his dark leather bomber jacket and slid his hand into Kyle's.

"Eet iz adventurous driveeng… nut reckless." He purred. "Besides… I would nevare let anyzhing 'appen to you." Christophe continued with a shrug as they began to walk. "Eef you fell off… I would definitelee… circle around and get you. At ze nearest corner."

Kyle gave him a playful glare. "Oh thanks." He grumbled sarcastically. But a small smile found his lips again as he felt Christophe lean over and lightly brush his lips and nose against his temple.

When they got closer to the high school after walking across the parking lot, they released hands. While they were fine with the idea of one another – both still had some issues to deal with. Christophe had to deal with Gregory; he planned to put an end to all the shit the pompous British kid was putting him through.

Kyle, on the other hand, had to talk to Stan and Kenny. Being close friends, he didn't want them hearing about it from someone else and getting some kind of warped opinion about Christophe and him. He figured he'd just ignore whatever comments Cartman would throw at him; he didn't care what that asshole thought. And while he knew his friends would rip him for this new relationship… he also wanted Stan, specifically, to know that he was pretty serious about it. Knowing his best friend, he'd understand and support him.

When they got into the school – the two exchanged a brief look, before they went their separate ways.

Already, Kyle felt a bit anxious. He knew he shouldn't worry about Christophe; he could take care of himself. But still, the fact that he'd seen Christophe on more than one occasion with horrible cuts and bruises didn't help… Gregory obviously had a sick temper. And while he didn't know the British teen that well, Kyle couldn't imagine he'd be too happy about being cut off.

"You're looking rather sprightly this morning." A smooth, arrogant voice came from beside him.

Tensing up, Kyle turned to see Gregory striding along beside him; his empty brown eyes eerily focused on Kyle. "Uh… yeah." The redhead mumbled awkwardly. Clearing his throat, he walked a bit faster – though was annoyed to find Gregory doing the same.

"I was wondering if you'd accompany me to the student council office…" Gregory began, gripping Kyle's elbow firmly. "I admire your diligence in the field of academics, and your track record is impeccable. I'd like to discuss a position on the council." Gregory said firmly.

Kyle tensed even more and glanced around the hallway anxiously; Christophe's words from before about NOT being alone with Gregory ringing in his ears. "Uh… maybe later?" He declined politely. "I gotta catch up with… Kenny," He explained quickly. "We've got a test in first period, and I—"

"Well, there's still a good twenty minutes before first period starts." Gregory countered knowingly. "The discussion I have in mind will only take up five minutes of your precious time." He chuckled; though there was a stern awkwardness to Gregory's voice that Kyle couldn't place.

As they drew closer to the student council office, Kyle began to panic. Gregory couldn't really beat the shit out of him at school, right? That would be too incriminating. Thankfully, fate was smiling on Kyle, and just as they were passing another hall, Stan rounded the corner and his eyes landed on Kyle.

"Hey dude." He greeted, though his smile faltered when he saw Gregory. "Uh… hey." Stan nodded; glancing at Kyle with a somewhat bewildered and bemused expression. What an odd pair to see together.

Kyle, on the other hand, couldn't be more grateful. "Hey Stan," He said quickly, yanking his elbow out of Gregory's grasp and moving over to his best friend. "Sorry Gregory, but… we'll have to talk some other time, there's something I really need to speak with Stan about." He mumbled quickly, nudging Stan along as the two of them headed down the opposite hallway.

Gregory watched them disappear into the throng of students with a hard gaze.

"What the fuck was that about, man?" Stan chuckled as they walked. "Please tell me you're not fucking Gregory." He grinned. "I know fags are hard to come by in South Park, but, you could do better."

Kyle shot his best friend a glare, "I wouldn't touch that British asshole with a ten foot pole." He snapped. "He's a freak. I don't know what his deal is, but he was trying to get me into the student council office."

"Huh." Stan shrugged. "Maybe he wants you to suck his cock." He laughed again. "Single gay guys are good for that, aren't they? I mean - if I was desperate enough to need MY cock sucked, I'd call you."

The redhead rolled his eyes, "Oh great. How many assholes do I need to deal with this morning?" He grumbled. "Besides, I'm not single. And I'd never suck your cock… not with your lack of personal hygiene."

"Fuck you." Stan pouted, turning his head and sniffing himself. "I smell good today." But then he paused and grabbed Kyle's arm. "Wait… did you say you're NOT single?" He asked, unsure if he heard his best friend correctly. The blush creeping onto Kyle's cheeks was evidence enough, and Stan's eyes widened. "No shit? … Who are you dating!" He asked a bit eagerly.

Kyle looked around them awkwardly, "We'll talk about it later." He hissed with an embarrassed glance. "I don't want to divulge in the details of my personal life in the middle of the fucking school hallway."

"Jesus, you're in a pissy mood." Stan complained, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder.

The redhead sighed, "Sorry. I'm sorry," He shook his head. "Gregory just really put me off. I don't trust that pussy as far as I can throw him."

"Well, me neither, but…" Stan began, glancing toward Kyle again, "Why has Gregory taken a sudden interest? I mean, I hate the guy just as much as you do – but he's never really given us the time of day. He seemed too stuck up to become REAL friends with anyone. Well… except for Christophe." He chuckled. "But he's just as much of a freak as Gregory."

Kyle looked over at Stan defensively, "No he's not. Christophe is just quiet… and intense, but, he's not a weirdo."

Stan quirked a brow and stared at his best friend for a few moments, before his expression fell and his eyes widened a bit.

"Oh shit…" He whispered, a teasing grin touching his lips. "You're fucking Christophe."

His best friend stared at him blankly. "W-What?" Kyle breathed out quietly. "No I'm not."

"You totally are." Stan pressed, his smile only becoming wider. "Why would you be defending Christophe if you didn't like him? And why would Gregory be acting so strange toward you? You're screwing his boyfriend. That's fuckin' ballsy, dude. I never pictured you as the 'other woman'… I thought you were above that." He teased.

Kyle narrowed his eyes again, "They're NOT boyfriends. Gregory just clung to Christophe because no one else would tolerate him." He corrected. "Christophe hates Gregory."

"And Gregory hates you." Stan finished with a satisfied grin. "Damn, Kyle. You're going into a war zone. Both those guys are crazy as fuck, and not in a good way." He warned, his jovial mood being replaced by a more protective one. "If I were you, I'd slow down. Gregory looks like the kind of guy who'd snap if he didn't get what he wanted."

He didn't say anything to Stan after that.

They reached their lockers and engaged in minimal conversation with Kenny and Cartman, though Kyle's best friend was gracious enough not to mention anything about their previous conversation. Was Stan right?

Granted, Kyle knew he didn't know Christophe THAT well… it just sort of happened. But he was attracted to him. Was that such a bad thing? Kyle didn't used to think so… but with Gregory's unusual behavior, he was beginning to wonder if getting involved with Christophe – meant getting involved with Gregory as well…


End file.
